


A Tale of Children and Onwards

by Squibler



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Child Abuse, F/M, Gen, Kidlock, M/M, Minor Character Death, eventual slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:43:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squibler/pseuds/Squibler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rather fluffy on-going story following John and Sherlock from meeting as kids and growing close slowly, but surely while facing all the troubles brought on by family, friends, and finding themselves.</p><p>We follow John and his alcoholic father. And we glance into the life of Sherlock Holmes, the youngest Holmes brother with parents that have high expectations for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Two Children Meet

“Give me Mr. Teddy back!”

“Oh come on Shorty! You can get it!”

Emotionless blue eyes followed the scene before them, a simple sibling-dispute; dull.

Dull was a word used to describe almost every aspect of the world that revealed itself to the ice cold eyes. Dull and boring, nothing ever exciting happened. Everyone was so predictable, so was everything that they did. Those eyes could see through a lie before it could escape someone’s lips.

That’s why the scene that had briefly caught the on looker’s gaze had instantly become what everything else became within seconds: a predictable pedestrian event.

A boy, maybe six or seven years of age, had his arms out stretched upwards in attempt to reach a fluffy looking tan colored teddy bear that was being held far above his head by a girl that had to be a few years older than the boy, ten or eleven maybe. The boy himself had choppy, short dirty blond hair, combed nicely to the left. It was hard to see from so far away, but it seemed like the boy had deep blue eyes. The boy wore simple clothes, a pair of jeans and a wool sweater.  The girl herself had short dirty blond hair as well, more in the bob style though, unlike most girls at that age that preferred long locks of hair. Her eyes where the same as the shorter boy, leading to an easy conclusion of the two being relatives. And with such similar looks, and the way they seem to act, most likely siblings even.

Boring.

The girl laughed as she watched the blond haired boy try to outstretch his arms enough to reach for the bear that was being held hostage high in the air.

“Harry, give me Mr. Teddy back right now!” the boy cried out.

“Why don’t you make me give it back?” ‘Harry’ taunted the boy.

“Just give me the bear! I’ll tell mummy if you don’t!” The boy was obviously getting fed up with the girl at this point, as any child who didn't get what they wanted would.

“Oh I’m so scared!” Sarcasm filled the girl’s voice.

The blond haired boy pouted, and tried jumping up to get the bear, causing the girl just to grin more. Then, without any warning, she tossed the bear through the air. The boy let out a cry of shock, watching his pressure bear soar through the air.

Sky blue eyes watched the bear soar through the air, before finally landing.

The bear landed in front of a pair of well-polished shoes. The shoes belonged to that of a boy with short, curly, dark brown hair. It was easy to tell just from one quick glance that this boy was from a very wealthy family. Not only by the fancy ironed pressed black trousers, and properly tucked in white shirt, but just by the air the other boy had about himself.

Both boys seemed to be eyeing each other up. However there was a difference, an obvious one. While John’s eyes held childish curiosity, the other boy’s eyes held so much. If John was a bit older, he would have recognized that the other boy was practically reading every single little detail about John. His whole life story with one glance of iron colored eyes.

John shifted awkwardly. They broke eye connect when the dark haired boy reached down to pick up ‘Mr. Teddy’ as the bear had been labeled. 

‘Um… May I please have Mr. Teddy back…?” John asked a bit timidly. He suddenly felt smaller compared to the other boy.

“Dull.”  The dark haired child’s voice was quiet. The boy seemed very disinterested in the other boy, as well as his bear. He handed the plush toy over with ease.

John tilted his head confused, “What…?”

“That bear’s name. It’s so boring. Tedious, and constantly re-used. Honestly, no one seems to have any proper wits when it comes to naming something as simple as a stuffed toy.”  The other boy drawled out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh…. Well do you have a teddy?” John asked, hugging his bear close to his chest. He was a bit offended by the other’s mean comment about his choice of name for his bear.

“Of course. His name is Ursus Arctos Horriblis.”

“Wow, that’s a long name! As well as a bit weird if you asked me.” Childish bluntness never seemed to surpass any child really.

The other scoffed, obviously insulted.

“Is not! It is the scientific name for a Grizzly Bear, for your information.” The boy replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh? Wow! I had no clue bears had such long names…’ John said, eyes wide, obviously amazed.

“I wouldn't expect you too. Especially with such a silly and dense little thing you call a brain.” John’s eyes went wide at that comment.

“T-that’s mean…” John said, eyes suddenly getting all teary.

“It’s only the truth.” The boy didn’t seem very phased at first of the other’s sudden reaction.

“You didn’t have to be such a meanie head about it!” John snapped back, obviously a bit upset now. “Not everyone is going to be as smart as you! Which is good, cause then the world would be made up of big meanie heads!” 

Grey eyes went wide at the other’s outburst. He had never been spoken to like that… Probably because he spent most of his time studying, but still! He was honestly speechless for once in his young life. The boy glanced down at his polished shoes.

John’s cheeks were a bit red with anger, glaring at the other.  

“I’m sorry…” If john hadn’t of been so focused on the other, he probably would have missed what the other boy had just said.  And if he had known the boy better, he would have realized, that was probably the first and perhaps the last time the other would ever apologize like that.

It was John’s turn to be taken aback. “Oh… I… It’s okay… I’m sorry too,’ he replied a bit awkwardly.

“You hardly have a reason to apologize. I was the one who implied you were stupid… It was rude… I have a bad habit of speaking bluntly, as my Mummy would say at least.”

“It’s okay! All is forgiven-“

“John! Mum is going to worry if we’re not back soon! Hurry your little arse up!” the girl, John’s sister suddenly interrupted their conversation. The curly haired boy seemed very disappointed at the rude stop to their conversation too….

“Fine! I’m telling Mummy you said the ‘a’ word!” John said, and began to following his sister. However he was only two feet away when he suddenly paused and turned around. “Hey!” He called, grabbing the brunette’s attention once again.

“Yes…?”

“I’m John Watson!” He said, finally introducing himself fully, a wide smile dancing on his lips.

The brunette blinked, before a very small smile suddenly appeared on his lips.

“Sherlock Holmes. “

“Well… I’ll cya later Sherlock?” John asked, a bit hopeful.

“Perhaps.” The boy, Sherlock, replied.

John seemed to get happier, if that was possible. He nodded, still clutching onto his bear as he turned around to chase after his sister once again. Leaving Sherlock to watch the younger boy quickly run away, a small smile on his lips still…

Perhaps indeed….


	2. In Which Two Children Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John meet once again at the same park after two parks. Sherlock deduces John, how does the other take it? And Mr. Teddy makes another appearance!

It would be around two weeks before either Sherlock or John saw each other again.  
  
During those two weeks Sherlock would spend most of his time in his father's study. He loved being surrounded by an array of books, engrossed in studying various scientific theories, and working out the various grammatical flaws in most of the books.  
  
However, after his brief encounter with the short blond on the playground, Sherlock found himself rather frustrated. The other boy had put him off. Something about the other; 'John' seemed foreign. As a Holmes and even at such a ripe age, Sherlock could read and figure out most people quite well. He was able to work out how John came from a middle class family; his elder sister was most likely experiencing the period in which young teenagers tested the waters of sexual identity. And that one of John's parents drunk. But something about John himself confused Sherlock.  
  
Maybe it was because Sherlock wasn't used to such friendliness. No one in Sherlock's school was ever that nice to him, especially when they first met him. Not that Sherlock cared. He didn't need other's kindness or friends. They were just interference to Sherlock focusing on his studies. Friends were just something Sherlock Holmes did not need.  
  
However John had even seemed to look forward to hopefully seeing Sherlock in the future! No other child had ever seemed interested in seeing Sherlock again. Not even remotely interested. Maybe the boy was just slow, or one of those over enthusiastic children that wants to be friends with every living organism in the world. He hated those sorts of people. They were so dim witted and boring.  
  
"Sherlock. Mummy thinks you're spending too much time in Father's study. She thinks you should go-"  
  
"Go out and try and socialize with children who call me a freak? Tedious. I am being much more productive inside. You should go outside though. Sneaking those pastries the maids bake is starting to be more evident in your physique."  
  
Mycroft's cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.  
  
"This is not about me Sherlock! This is what Mummy wants. Or do you want Mummy to be unhappy with you?" Mycroft asked, pulling out the 'Mummy card'. Neither boy dared upset Mummy, afraid of the wrath of their father.  
  
Sherlock gritted his teeth, annoyed with his brother.  
  
".... Fine... I'll go out and walk around. I won't promises on playing with those other dull children." Sherlock replies, shutting the Anatomy book he had already read four times. He got up, scowling at his brother.  
  
Mycroft smiled, obviously feeling victorious. "I'll inform the driver to take you to the park. Don't give him trouble." Mycroft spoke, before leaving the room.  
  
Sherlock let out an annoyed huff of air. He made his way out of his father's study, into the main hall. A maid was waiting to give him his coat.  
  
"Thank you." Sherlock mumbled, before pulling his coat on. The maid said good bye, but as always the young boy just left the house. He climbed into the sleek black car that was waiting to take him to the park.  
  
It didn't take long before Sherlock was at the entrance of an al too familiar playground. There weren't many other children around, something Sherlock was quite happy to note.  
  
Without wasting any time Sherlock went over towards some bushes and kneeled down to start examining the soil and such around said bush.

* * *

  
"John! John Hamish Watson do not make me call you a third time!"  
  
John's small frame practically bolted out from his bed.  
  
"Coming!" He called out as he made a dash out of his bedroom and downstairs.  
  
His father was waiting for him in the kitchen.  
  
"About bleeding time." The man snapped harshly causing John to shrink back a bit. "What took you so long?"  
  
"Just reading.... And I didn't hear you the first time..." John replied back quietly.  
  
"I've heard that excuse from you far too often John."  
  
"Sorry father...."  
  
John's father just scowled at his son.  
  
"Your mother informed me you neglected your chores."  
  
"I didn't mean to! I just.... I just forgot! Really!"

"No excuses. You better not forget again, or else I will not hesitate to punish you."  
  
John nodded. "Yes father..." John replies softly.  
  
John watched as his father stalked into the living room, probably to watch the news. John sighed quietly. He went to the kitchen, where he found his mother standing by the sink, staring out the window sadly. She turned around when she heard her son's soft footsteps coming close to her.  
  
"Sorry sweetie...." She started voice hardly above a whisper. "He noticed me doing a few of your chores..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
John shook his head, going to hug his mother. "It's okay Mum... I don't blame you..." John replied softly.  
  
Mrs. Watson kneeled down to hug her son back. "Love you sweetie."  
  
"Love you too Mum." John replied with a soft smile and a kiss to his mother's cheek.  
  
She smiled at her son, before standing back up and ruffling John's hair. She let John help clean up the kitchen a bit. Both of them hoping that it would appease Mr. Watson.  
  
Now Mr. Watson wasn't necessarily a bad man. No, he cared for his wife very much. He was strict on John because he cared for him. Well that's what Mrs. Watson would tell John when the boy was upset. Mr. Watson had served in the military for a large portion of his life, which was the main reason for his strict and rather harsh persona, once he had finished serving his time he returned back to London and got a job at a factory. He had met Mrs. Watson not long after he had returned home. They were married in no time, and soon after Harriet came along into their life and then John. Mr. Watson was just a strict man, who drank quite frequently, more than what one really should, however everything function normally in the Watson household.  
  
After John and his mother were finished cleaning up, she allowed him to go to the park, as long as he was back in time for dinner. John smiled and nodded. He had been going there quite often, in hopes of seeing his new... Friend? He hoped they were friends. Sherlock seemed interesting enough.  
  
The park wasn't very far from his home, and his neighborhood was safe. So he simply walked there, it was a nice enough evening anyways. However, right before leaving John made sure to grab Mr. Teddy. He never went anywhere without his best teddy bear friend.

* * *

  
  
John got to the playground in no time. He went to head over to the swings when he noticed out of the coder of his eye a head of curly dark brown hair moving around. John turned to look and found it was the same boy he had seen two weeks earlier. John's face lit up. He moved closer to say hello when he noticed the other boy was crouched down examining something. Peering over Sherlock's shoulder he noticed Sherlock was examining an injured bird. Sherlock was writing nearly in a leather bound notebook.  
  
"The poor bird..." John suddenly let out when he saw the small bird try and flap it's wings in hopelessly.  
  
John's voice and close proximity caused Sherlock to jump in complete surprise. He turned quickly, ready to yell at whoever it was who was in his personal space. However when he saw it was John his mind quickly shifted gears, a puzzled and surprised look on his face. He hadn't actually expected to see the other boy again. Let alone had he imagined the other boy actually coming near him. Once people met Sherlock, they tended to go out of their way to make sure they were as far away from Sherlock as possible. John was very interesting.  
  
John tilted his head when Sherlock hadn't expressed any form of greeting or anything.  
  
"What are you doing?" John asked the other curiously, his gaze shifting back to the bird that was trying to fly still.  
  
"Collecting data." Sherlock simply replied.  
  
"Of what?"

"How long it takes this bird to realize it cannot fly. And from there I will examine what it does next." Sherlock explained quickly, letting his own gaze shift back to the injured bird.  
  
"Oh." Was John's only response, obviously allowing his young mind to wrap around the other's words.  
  
"Indeed." And then silence fell between both of them. Sherlock however was the first to speak up.  
  
"Why did you say 'The poor bird'?" Sherlock asked, looking to the other again.  
  
"Wha- Oh... I feel bad... He can't fly anymore... He can't go back to his family and friends. He's all alone on his own. And he can't even defend himself!" John replied, getting a bit upset because he wanted to help the bird, but being so young he didn't possess such knowledge yet. His grip tightened on the stuffed bear.  
  
Sherlock was very interested in John's words. For a bird that the blond boy had never seem before expressed such deep feelings for a wild animal that was really useless now.  
  
"Interesting... It's just. Bird though John. They do not possess the same feelings as we do. It's a simple animal. The only real instincts they possess are those telling them they need to survive. Not that their friends will miss them or something." Sherlock's voice was flat. His response earned a frown though from John.  
  
"How do you know birds don't have emotions like humans?"  
  
"Science John." Sherlock replied.  
  
"Birds are living creatures! And all living creatures have feelings!" Sherlock sighed as John was obviously feeling very strong about this. "I bet the bird is really sad right now! And wishes someone would help it..."  
  
Sherlock just sighed. John had good intentions, but was still naive to the real world and all its realities.  
  
"Believe what you wish then. I can tell changing your mind is not possible. Shall we drop the subject then?" Sherlock offered.  
  
John was hesitant, but finally nodded Sherlock was pleased with John's response.  
  
"Good." Sherlock wrote something down in his notebook before h closed it. He was bored of studying the bird suddenly. He was more interested in figuring out exactly what was so different about John.  
  
"So.... How have you been?" John finally said, trying to get rid of the awkward tension. "This is my first time coming to the park since we met! My dad doesn't let me come here often." Something in John's tone, and the way his eyes seemed to look downwards told Sherlock John's father often didn't let him do things. Obviously strict parenting methods perhaps.  
  
"I've been fine. Studying as per usual. My elder brother was the one who told me to come to the park today. I'd prefer to be back in the library studying." Sherlock replied in a bored tone. "Or somewhere more exciting than a park."

  
"Like what?" John tilted his head curiously in question.  
  
"A crime scene." Was Sherlock's simple answer.  
  
"What? Why a crime scene..? Those are kinda creepy... And sad..."  
  
"They tell such fascinating stories!" Sherlock replied with an excite gleam in his eyes. John's expression was rather hard for Sherlock to read. It was a look of uncertainty, but also it had mild interest at the same time.  
  
"What sort of stories...? I mean if they're not um... Alive they can't speak.... Well I hope not." John asked.  
  
"They don't need to be alive to tell a story. Honestly people are so oblivious at times." The other boy informed the other rather rudely. "Any person, dead or alive pretty much has their whole life story written pretty much on their face, if not their face, somewhere on their person."  
  
John listened to the other, a look of disbelief on his face.  
  
"What? That's a bit hard to believe.... Can you tell me my story?" John asked, beaming in excitement.  
  
"Easy. Though are you sure...? Most people... Do not appreciate me telling them their life stores." Sherlock said, his demur changing from one of pride, to one being rather self-conscious about himself.

John smiled brightly. “Go ahead! I promise not to get angry at you.”  Sherlock contemplated the other’s words for a moment, before nodding and taking a deep breath.

“Right, it’s obvious from your clothes you are from a middle class family, bordering on lower class. How do I see this? Your clothes are obviously worn down, including the obvious patches in your jeans. Now based on your reactions earlier on how you felt about the injured bird, leads to the idea that someone in your family works in a hospital or clinic. I’m going towards your mother because of your gentle persona. Based on your crew cut hair, most likely your father served in the military and chooses to have your hair clean and simple. Most likely after he came back from the war he wasn’t able to find a decent paying job. Most military men have trouble finding a good job, because the only real experience they have is fighting what I consider a tedious war, so they are reduced to simple jobs, usually factory jobs. And your mother most likely is just a simple nurse. Maybe even going as far as her working part time so she has time to take care of you and your sister.  Both jobs lead your parents to making very little money. Now what I can tell about the bear you had yesterday told me so much more about you.” Sherlock easily spoke, stating each fact as if they were the most obvious facts in the world. He eyed John to see how John was handling everything Sherlock had said so far.

John was letting everything sink in slowly. He couldn’t believe the other could tell all that about John, and still have more he could easily go off about. The two hadn’t even properly known each other for more than twenty four hours. John tilted his head when he heard Sherlock mention his stuffed bear, gaze moving down to stare at his bear.

“What do you mean Mr. Teddy can tell you a lot about me too? I mean… He’s just a stuffed bear.” John asked, looking very confused.

“It’s the state of which the bear is in.” Sherlock replied simply. “The bear has often been through a lot. This tells me you have been through a lot. How can I tell that? Looking at the bear’s fur, you can see that in some places, mainly around the midsection, and arms the fur is more worn down than in some other areas. This is most likely from a child who is under stress and will unconsciously pick at the bear’s fur and seams. Also I could see obvious displacement of stuffing in the bear. What does that mean your tiny mind might be asking? It means that you hold onto the bear a lot, and with such a tight grip. Why? Because of a stressful atmosphere. Where is this stressful atmosphere coming from? Most likely from parents arguing about troubling financial problems. Also, you might be stressed when your father gets angry during his alcoholic stupors.” Sherlock informed the other. John’s eyebrows shot up.

“How… How did you know my father drinks?”

“Honestly John, I can smell the alcohol on your clothes. Liquor tends to leave a faint and rather gross stench on clothing and hair, especially if alcohol is frequented in a household.” Sherlock answered simply. He waited for John to get frustrated and leave.

John however surprised the other. John didn’t move from the spot, and soon a wide smile spread across his lips.

“That was…. BRILLIANT!” John exclaimed rather loudly, causing Sherlock to flinch a bit.

Well.

This was new to say the least.

“That is… Not what most children, or adults say.”

“What do they usually say?”

“Piss off.”

That response earned a small, childish giggle from John. John’s giggle was rather contagious and Sherlock easily joined the other in giggling. Soon after the boy’s laughter died down and both boys were smiling at each other softly.

“You’re really cool Sherlock.” John said with a bright smile.

Sherlock felt his cheeks go a bit red. He wasn’t used to compliments, and sometimes almost felt a bit ashamed of his skills.

“Thank you I suppose…” Sherlock replied quietly.

Suddenly it dawned on John that the sun was nearly disappearing over the horizon, and his face paled a bit.

“Oh no! I should have been home by now! I need to get going or my parents are going to be angry. It was good to see you again Sherlock! Hopefully we can hang out more!” John said quickly, before running off before Sherlock even got the chance to say goodbye. He waved slowly as he watched the other’s form slowly disappear from sight.

Sherlock found himself feeling a bit down at the absence of the other now. He looked down, and soon noticed that Mr. Teddy was faced down on the dusty ground. Sherlock reached down to pick up the worn down bear. John would obviously miss his bear once he noticed it was gone. However Sherlock wasn’t about to just leave the bear there to wait for the other boy to realize he lost it. But how would Sherlock be able to return the bear to John? Even though he could tell a lot about John, and could tell the other lived close enough to walk here without guidance, there were a lot of middle-class houses around the park.

Sherlock frowned deeply when he realized what he had to do.

He needed to ask Mycroft for help. Mycroft had many ways of finding information, especially when it came to the whereabouts of others. Sherlock dreaded the thought of asking his brother. But it was for John, the only boy that thought Sherlock as ‘cool’. It was the least the brunette could do for the other.

Hopefully Mycroft would help him. He would need to ask the cook to prepare a special pastry for Mycroft.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Chapter is up sooner than you guy all probably expected it to be. I can't promise this will be the same with other chapters. I'll try to have third chapter up Saturday or Sunday. I'll have enough free time. Tell me what you think. And if you spot any major errors please let me know! I typed a lot of this up on my iPod and it isn't the best with grammar errors. Also let me know if John seems a bit older than seven? It's hard to get my mind to that of a seven year old, even spending 9 weeks working with first graders. Ah I'm rambling. Please comment and let me know what you think.


	3. In Which Mr. Teddy is Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mr. Teddy is lost and found. We learn the names of both Sherlock and John's parents.

Sherlock found that persuading the chief to make a cake was no problem. Just throw out the information that you knew what him and the house maid were getting up on the weekends. In no time a triple layer, chocolate mousse cake was prepared. Sherlock grinned as he watched the chief slice into the cake and place the chocolate slice on a plate and put a fork on it. The chief handed the plate to Sherlock with a weak smile.

“Here you go…. Thank you for um… Not telling your father about my…. Situation.” The chief muttered awkwardly.

“No problem. Thank you for the cake.” Sherlock replied innocently. With that he turned on his heels with the cake and walked out of the kitchen. He knew exactly were Mycroft was. Mycroft spent most of his time in Father’s Library if he wasn’t off doing some political work in some place or another. Mummy had convinced Mycroft to come home for the weekend for a ‘nice family dinner’ as she had put it. So this was the perfect chance for Sherlock to actually have a use for his pompous brother.

He walked down several halls, before knocking on the library door, and poking his head.

“Mycroft, brother are you in here?” Sherlock called, stepping into the room after a moment.

Mycroft was reading a newspaper. He folded the paper and looked up hearing his brother come in.

“Now isn’t this a pleasant surprise. What is it you want Sherlock?” Mycroft asked, turning his nose up a bit when he noticed the other with a slice of cake.

“I just wanted to see you brother. We never do spend enough time together.” Sherlock said, smiling. The image was almost a bit terrifying to Mycroft, Sherlock never smiled unless he wanted something in return.

“It’s your request we never spend any time together. You never request my presence unless you want something. So what do you want?” Mycroft asked. “Also, is that cake for me…?” Sherlock’s mouth curled up a bit into a smirk. He walked over and gave his brother the plate of cake.

“Fine, I was hoping this would be nice and easy anyway. I need your help-“

“Oh! My, my isn’t this a change of things. You need my help? Me of all people? You must be running a fever, should I summon Mummy down?” Sherlock’s eyes hardened at the other’s remark.

“Piss off.”

“Oh so you don’t really want my help?” Mycroft asked innocently, his own smirk forming on his lips. Sherlock nearly growled at his brother.

“Yes I want your bleeding help Mycroft!” Sherlock nearly yelled. “Don’t think of it was anything special!”

“Fine. No need to use foul language and loud words. What is it you want?” Mycroft asked, eating a piece of the cake.

“I need you to get me an address.” Sherlock informed his brother.

“Oh? Whatever for?”

Sherlock suddenly went a bit pink in the cheeks. He hadn’t thought about telling his brother the reason for all of this. Sherlock Holmes, doing something like this was rather unheard of.

“I…. Need to return something to someone… That’s all. John Watson is his name. And I need to know where he is located.”

“And you need my help for this? Really this is practically elementary material Sherlock.” Mycroft scolded his brother causing Sherlock’s first to clench in anger.

“Will you just help me or not Mycroft?” Sherlock asked, his voice nearly ranging on being that of a whine. Mycroft’s eyebrow arched, surprised at how desperate he could tell his brother was.

“Fine, but do remember you owe me for this. You could have easily gotten this information on your own.” With that Mycroft took out his cellphone, and began typing something in. “Do you have any idea in which radial facility he resides in?”

“He should live in walking distance of Sunbury Park.” Sherlock informed his brother.

“18 Saxonbury Avenue, Shepperton.” Mycroft easily answered his brother. Sherlock’s eyes instantly lit up.

“Thank you!” With that Sherlock shot out of the library, leaving a slightly stunned Mycroft with his cake. Sherlock had never once said ‘thank you’ to anyone except for Mummy and Father. Sherlock was acting strange. Mycroft would need to look into this. He already had one idea, Sherlock had made a friend. This was rather unheard of.

\----

“Things are starting to become interesting with you little brother.” Mycroft mumbled to himself, a small smirk on his lips as he ate another piece of cake.

John’s mother hadn’t been extremely upset with John for being late. She of course had informed John she had been quite worried, but she knew her brave little soldier would always come back to her. John’s father was a whole other story though. Mr. Watson had been furious. Not only had John been slacking on his chores, he went out to play and ended up being late. He had yelled at John quite thoroughly, even snapping at Mrs. Watson when she tried to step in and defend her son. In the end Mr. Watson sent John up to his room, yelling that the son was grounded until further notice. John of course was a soft child, and hated fighting of any sorts. He ended up crying in his room. He went to reach for Mr. Teddy and quickly realized Mr. Teddy wasn’t there. John’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. His best friend wasn’t there… John’s tears came down even easier now. He slowly curled up under the covers of his bed, and cried quietly.

An hour or so later, there was a soft knock on John’s door. John didn’t ask who it was, just curling into a tighter ball. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He missed his teddy…

“Johnny? It’s just me.” It was Harry. John heard the door creak open. “I’m coming in okay?” She sounded rather worried about her little brother. Harriet walked into her brother's room quietly, making sure to shut the door behind her. She slowly crawled into John's bed with him, wrapping her arms around her little brother.

"I-I lost Mr. Teddy." John mumbled to his sister. He was trying not to cry again, trying to be strong.

Harriet’s grip tightened around her brother's smaller frame. "Do you remember when you last had him?" Her voice was soft; she knew how dear the bear was to her brother.

"The park... I-I must have dropped him.... When I was rushing to leave the park..." John replied, a hiccup escaping his throat.

"Hey... Shh... Tomorrow I'll swing by the park before I go to school okay? I'm sure he'll be there." Harriet tried to assure her little brother. John nodded. "Thanks Harry..." John mumbled, curling up a bit more in her sister's arms.

"No problem. Now no more tears okay? Mr. Teddy wouldn't want to see you cry over him." John nodded, rubbing his eyes to wipe away a few stray tears.

“Is dad still mad at me…?” John asked his sister softly. He hated when he upset his father. His father would not just take it out on John, but also take it out on the rest of the family.

“You know dad, he just needs his space and to vent a bit. He doesn’t stay mad forever.” Had John been older, he would have snorted at his sisters words. Mr. Watson always seemed like he was in a grumpy mood. John however, would not voice that opinion. He just nodded and closed his eyes. Having his sister with him was nice… Harriet didn’t do these sorts of things much, so John learned to cherish these little moments with his sister. John easily found himself drifting off into a deep sleep.

Harriet felt horrid the next day when she had looked all around the park, and under every slide and monkey bar for the stuffed bear. Who would take a worn out bear? Really, from John constantly holding it and picking at the seams and fur the bear was balding, and slowly falling apart.

She knew her brother would be a mess at the thought of Mr. Teddy being gone for good. Their mother had gotten John the bear a few Christmas’ ago. John had loved it and from that moment on John would never be separated from that bear. Mr. Watson had practically yelled at John that kids at his age shouldn’t be bringing toys to school. That of course had upset John, and from then on Mr. Teddy stayed home, but John still clutched him close when he needed someone.

Now of course both of John’s parents took the news of the missing bear completely differently. Mrs. Watson held her son close and tried to comfort him.

“It’s okay Johnny sweetheart… Mr. Teddy might still show up. You never know… and if he doesn’t, you need to be a brave little soldier okay? Just keep soldiering on and know Mr. Teddy will always be there for you-“

“For God’s sake Julie, the kid is seven years old. He doesn’t need a bloody bear.” Mr. Watson’s voice yelled as he came into the kitchen where Mrs. Watson was comforting her son.

“He’s still a child. It’s okay if he’s upset about this. He’s had that bear since he was three.” Mrs. Watson tried to defend her son.

“Yeah, and what else did you expect from a kid who clings on to a bear for half his life? If you weren’t so bloody soft on him all the time and made him get rid of that stupid thing sooner we wouldn’t have to be dealing with this problem now.” Mr. Watson argued back at his wife before looking to John. “It’s just a bear John. It’s not a real person, you shouldn’t be crying over an inanimate object like a baby. You’re a young man, not a baby.” John sniffled, biting his lip and nodding. “Good, now go wash your face and quit sulking about. Do something productive.” Mrs. Watson sighed at her husband’s voice, but hugged John one more time before letting go of her son.

“Go on sweetie… do as your father said.” John nodded at his mother and went to the bathroom to wash his face. He still missed Mr. Teddy, but didn’t want to upset his father or even his mother so he soldiered on like always.

“Honestly Julie. You need to stop babying him.” Jonathan C. Watson said to his wife, frowning at her.

“He’s a child Jonathan. He has plenty of time to grow up and become a man. Now he should just be enjoying life like every other child his age.” Julie replied. Jonathan just rolled his eyes and went to get a beer from the fridge.

“Too bleeding soft on him Julie…” He grumbled, before going to take a swig of beer as he walked back to the living room. Julie sighed and went to start cooking dinner.

\----

Sherlock had nearly been ready to blow the house up when he was told that he would not be able to return his friend’s bear until tomorrow afternoon at the latest. His Mummy had refused to allow any of the drivers to take Sherlock out at this time of night for anything. Of course Sherlock did what any six year old would do.

He threw probably the world's largest tantrum.

“Mummy this is ludicrous! Let me give the bear back to John! He’ll be missing it by now!” Sherlock yelled at his mother.

Sherlock’s mother, Anita Holmes, was a rather pleasant woman. Only wanting what’s best for her sons. She was a smart woman, though it was her husband that her boy’s got their extending intellect from. However, their manners were from here, well what manners they ever showed. Sherlock got most of his looks from Anita, while Mycroft got his looks from their father, Cesare Holmes. Not only did their intellect come from him, but also their cold dispositions. He wanted his sons to achieve only the highest of everything, nothing less. He was stern and distant whenever he actually was around. Anita was the opposite; they did love each other none the less though.

“Sherlock dear it is nearly nine o’clock. I’m sure John’s parents would not appreciate guests at this time of night, especially not over a bear.” Anita argued back, though her voice was soft.

“It’s not over A bear Mummy! It’s Mr. Teddy! John’s favorite stuffed animal.” Sherlock continued to argue, his cheeks puffing up a bit in anger. Mrs. Holmes tried not to smile at how adorable her youngest was sometimes, it would only upset the boy more.

“None the less Sherlock, he can do without it for one night. Now that’s that. No more arguing or I’ll lock up the lab for a week.” Mrs. Holmes’s voice was still soft, but her eyes showed that she was not joking. Sherlock himself looked still rather upset, yet did not argue. He knew better.

So he did the next best thing.

He went to yell at Mycroft in the library.

Mycroft was just as unmoving as their mother.

“I did you one favor already Sherlock. I’m rather busy right now.” Mycroft replied, not even looking up from his book.

“Mycroft! You’re… You’re… A big fat jerk!” Sherlock yelled, before running out of the library. He didn’t know what else to do. He wanted his friend to have his teddy back. Why couldn’t anyone understand how important this was? It was John’s closest friend!  He needed his bear obviously! Did they not see how the bear had gone through such stresses for John?

Sherlock couldn’t comprehend why this was upsetting him so much… He just knew he wanted John to have Mr. Teddy back. Sherlock could feel tears of frustration building up at his point. He looked over at the raggedy bear and reached out with a small hand, and pulled the bear up to his chest. He hugged the bear tightly. Tears flowed down the brunette’s cheeks and onto the bear. People were so stupid! Selfish and blind! Sherlock soon fell asleep, clutching the bear tightly.

\----

John was quiet and kept to himself all through the next day. He missed his teddy bear greatly. On top of it, his father was still upset at his son. John looked worn out and his eyes were a bit puffy in the morning from crying the night before. When Mr. Watson left for work the next day Mrs. Watson quickly went to comfort her son, trying to sooth him, even making her best cup of tea for John. John however was still rather upset, but put on a faint smile for his mother not wanting to see her upset any longer. He finally got ready and went to school, where he was distracted all day worrying all his teachers.

When John got home, he worked silently on his homework till his mother asked for his help for dinner around five o’clock.

Mrs. Watson was showing her son how to carefully cut a potato when their doorbell rang. Mrs. Watson looked at her son in question. As far as she knew they were expecting no company. John shrugged.

“I didn’t invite anyone over….” He assured his mother. She nodded. “Keep cutting John.”  She told her son, before going to answer the door.

Julie Watson couldn’t describe the amount of shock she felt when she opened the door and was greeted by the sight of a young boy, dressed in a full suit, holding her son’s raggedy bear. The most surprising thing about the boy was the serious expression on the child’s face. It rivaled the serious look you’d find on men three times the boy’s age.

“Hello? How can I help you?” Mrs. Watson asked, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Is this the residence of John Watson?” The boy asked his expression and voice never wavering.

Mrs. Watson blinked, started at the child’s formality. “Why, yes it is.”

“My name is Sherlock Holmes and-“

“Mr. Teddy!” John’s loud childish voice called out, he had peeked out of the kitchen, and saw Sherlock Holmes holding Mr. Teddy. John raced to the front door, pushing past his mother a bit and taking the bear from the other boy. He held it tightly to his chest, smiling brightly.

“You dropped him yesterday in your haste to return home.  I would have returned him sooner, but Mummy would not allow it. I am sorry for any distress this has caused-“ Once again Sherlock was interrupted by John, but this time when the other boy wrapped his short arms around Sherlock’s neck in a tight hug. This off course completely took Sherlock by shock.

“Thank you for taking care of Mr. Teddy for me and returning him to me…” John’s voice was soft, his arms still tight around the other’s neck.

“You are welcome John. I knew you would miss your bear greatly.” Sherlock replied simply. Mrs. Watson watched the two boys with a fond smile. She hadn’t seen John smile in such a way in a long time. She was curious though who this Sherlock Holmes boy was. John wasn’t one to hide news of making new friends.

John finally pulled away from Sherlock, still smiling, and hugged Mr. Teddy to his chest again.  Sherlock gave a faint smile back, shifting on his feet.

“I should be going… Sorry if disturbed you or your family” Sherlock glanced up at Mrs. Watson at that. “I… Hope to see you again soon John.” John smiled brightly and nodded.

“I’ll try and come to the park this Saturday?” John looked up at his mother in hopes of approval. Mrs. Watson couldn’t say no to her son, afraid of upsetting him again so she nodded smiling.               

Sherlock nodded. “Saturday is fine. Is one o’clock an appropriate time?” John nodded again. “Alright then, I shall see you soon I suppose.” 

“Bye-bye Sherlock!” John said happily.

“Take care John. Have a lovely evening Mrs. Watson.”  Mrs. Watson gave a wave goodbye before Sherlock turned to head back to the sleek black car.

“Johnny who was that nice young fellow?” Julie asked her son. John smiled brightly.

“My new bestest friend!” John replied beaming.

Little did John know, Sherlock thought the same thing about John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so to recap some information:  
> Julie Holmes - Mrs. Watson  
> Jonathan C. Holmes - Mr. Holmes  
> Cesare (Pronounce che-SAH-re) Holmes - Mr. Holmes (I probably spent 45 minutes trying to pick out a name for him.)  
> Anita Holmes - Mrs. Holmes
> 
> Let me know what you think! So far this story is going really nicely and how I wanted it to go. Next chapter will probably contain a bit of a time skip? Not fully sure yet. Need to think about how I want the next bit of sequence of events go. Comment and let me know what you think please!


	4. In Which We Meet Julie and Jonathan Watson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a bit of a character study/background sort of thing for the Watson parents.

                Julie Watson:

Julie Watson was a simple woman really. She had wavy brunette hair that reached her mid-back, but because of work she usually pulled it back into a high ponytail.  Her eyes were a cerulean blue. John had inherited his mother’s eyes, the first thing anyone really complimented him on when first meeting him. Her eyes held nothing but kindness and love. They were really the door to her soul. Julie helped everyone she could before helping herself. It was the mother and nurse in her.

Now Julie Watson worked from the time she woke up to the time she went to bed. She started her day early, waking up at five in the morning and getting straight into the shower. She would get in her scrubs and fix her hair up nice and neat, making sure not a single strand was out of place. She would put the coffee on, before going to make sure her husband was up on time at about six. She would go back downstairs and prepare Mr. Watson’s coffee and breakfast for him.  When he came down to eat and read the paper she would prepare his lunch, making small conversation with the man. Soon he was pecking her lips and heading out the door.

At seven o’clock she would wake her children up. Harriet would go and get in the shower and then Julie would go and help John fix his hair and clothes for school. She made sure his short sandy blond hair was neat and completely flat. After John was dressed he would go downstairs and sit in the living room and watch ‘Arthur’ on the telly. Mrs. Watson would then prepare a hearty breakfast for the kids. As a nurse she knew breakfast was the most important meal of the day, and should be treated just as importantly as lunch and dinner. Now while both the kids eat, Mrs. Watson makes them both lunch. It’s probably not as lavish as some kids, who bring lunch, but she can’t afford the cafeteria prices and neither can she afford the good lunchmeats and all those sugary sweet snacks. A simple sandwich, some sort of fruit cup, and some sort of bagged vegetable. Harriet and John never complained though, they knew their parents worked hard to get feed them. And they also knew better than to complain, especially if Mr. Watson could catch wind of it.

After the kids were done eating, they would all pile into the car and Julie would drive them to their schools. Then off she would go to work. She worked at a small hospital clinic, mostly filled with elderly people. She did her daily rounds, checking on the patients that were just coming in for quick checks up and needed a shot. Then she would deliver lunch to both short and long term staying patients. She enjoyed visiting each patient, always wearing a bright smile, and making sure to give a bit of light conversation with them. Julie Watson was a patient favorite, always seeming cheery and willing to listen to someone’s story.

As her lunch time came about, Julie could be found in one place only; old man Stewart’s room. Stewart Jones was the oldest patient and the longest patient to have stayed at the clinic. Most nurses and other residents of the hospital avoided the elderly man. He was crude and always angry; most nurses came in quietly, did what they had to do and left. No not Julie, she would bring his and her own lunch into the man’s room, make herself comfortable eat with him. Stewart suffered from Small-Cell lung cancer. It was a rather rare form of lung cancer and was great dangerous, especially for a man of Stewart’s age. The cancer spread rapidly compared to Large-Cell Lung cancer. It was quite impressive that Stewart was doing as well as he was doing, however Stewart didn’t have the proper finances for chemotherapy or  any other sort of treatments, so his children had thrown him in the clinic, paid his medical bills for staying there and for pain killers and left it at that. Leaving Stewart to just live out whatever time he had left in the hospital, all alone.

Stewart Jones was a man that preferred to be by himself and when someone tried to approach him, he’d try to drive him off with snarky comments. However Julie Watson was not one easily driven away by comments alone. She didn’t give up just like that; stubbornness was just part of being in the Watson family. Eventually Stewart learned this as well, and just accepted the nurse in his room in the afternoon. And of course, he wouldn’t say this out loud, but he enjoyed Julie’s company. She did most of the talking, going on about all sorts of various topics. Today Julie was going on about how her son had lost Mr. Teddy the other day.

“Who the hell is Mr. Teddy?” Stewart asked, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Oh! He’s Johnny’s stuffed bear. I got it for him when he was about three. He loves the stuffed bear to bits. Sadly the other day he left it at the park, and was torn to bits about it… I felt so bad because yesterday right before school his sister had gone and checked the park, but couldn’t find the bear, Johnny was just so out of sorts…. Of course Jonathan was having none of that… Told John that he needed to stop crying over a stuffed toy…”

“Woman, I have told ya that man ain’t nothin’ but trouble!” he scolded her angrily. And it was true. Not a day went by were Stewart wasn’t going on about how much he disliked Julie’s husband and he had never even met the other man.

“He’s really not that bad Stewart… He just wants the best for his kids and just has a bit of a temper.”

Stewart snorted. “Bit of a temper my ass…”

Julie of course just smiled softly and continued on with her story. She eventually got to the part were Sherlock had showed up at her home with John’s bear, and once again old man Stewart interrupted her.

“What type of name is Sherlock?! Honestly parents these days… Don’t they realize what sort of torment they’re setting their kids up for?”

“Oh Sherlock isn’t that bad of a name, quite charming really. I think he’s from a wealthier family… They usually choose more… Unique names for their children. Also he had such manners! Quite the young gentleman and he was no older than John!” Julie couldn’t help but ramble on about the mysterious boy that was her son’s new best friend. The boy seemed quite interesting and hoped she would be able to see more of the boy in the future.

Stewart just nodded as Julie rambled on, occasionally adding another comment or two along the way, but mainly focusing on finishing his lunch. When both of them were done with their lunch, Julie got up and got rid of their trays. She stayed with the elder man for a bit longer before her lunch break ended. When it came to an end she got up and smiled at Stewart.

“Alright, I need to get going Stewart. Behave for the other nurses okay?”

“Yeah, yeah… If they’d just leave me alone ya’ wouldn’t need to be worrying about me behavin’.” Stewart grumbled, crossing his arms, though the IVs made it a bit awkward for the elderly man. Julie just chuckled.

“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow Stewart.” She never said the word ‘good-bye’ because that usually was said when there might be a chance of not seeing the other for a long period of time, if at all. Julie always planned on seeing Stewart again, not wanting to think of never seeing the elderly man again.

“Yeah. Cya.” He replied gruffly before turning his attention to getting his television remote and turning it on to some news program.

She got up and left the room to go back to doing her regular afternoon rounds. And when her shift came to an end she said goodbye to the other nurses and left the clinic. She would then go and pick up both John and Harriet from school before finally heading home.

Back at the Watson home Julie told her kids to get started on their homework. She prepared a light snack of cheese and crackers for them while they worked. She then went to doing a few chores around the house. Her husband wanted the kids to do a lot of the chores around the house, however Mrs. Watson knew her kids were busy with school work and needed to time to enjoy their afternoons and often did most of their chores herself. Of course she tried not to let Jonathan know this unless she was willing to deal with an argument.

Around six Jonathan returned home from work and gave Julie a quick kiss before going to take a shower. While he got in the shower and freshened up, she would start dinner.

“John, can you set the table for me sweetheart?” Julie asked her son. John smiled up from the book he was reading for school and nodded. “Sure mum!” He got up, setting his book down and going to start setting the table.

When Jonathan got out of the shower he went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer before going to the living room to turn the television on. He was watching a rugby game as always while waiting for dinner to be done.  About an hour later Julie called the family out to dinner.

“Come on! Supper is ready everyone.” She called out to the family.

All the Watsons gathered to the dinner table and began eating. Their dinner was mostly eaten in silence, occasionally one of the kids would bring up something that happened at school. Tonight however everyone was eating in silence.

When dinner was done Jonathan went back to the living room to resume watching the rugby game. John helped Julie clean up the dishes while Harriet went up to her and John’s shared room.

“You dry the dishes okay Johnny?” Julie informed her son softly.

“Okay mum!” John smiled up at his mother and nodded as he reached for the dry dish towel.

In no time both of them had finished cleaning up the kitchen entirely. John went upstairs to play with his toys for a while. Julie joined her husband in the living room. She opened up a weaved basket and pulled out a half knitted sweater. It was a hobby she indulged in when she had some extra time to sit back and just relax. Her current project was a nice cable knit sweater for John. It was a bit on the large side so John could wear it for a longer period of time before growing out of it. She worked on the sweater until eight o’clock and carefully put everything away. She walked upstairs and peaked into her kids’ room.  John was on the floor playing with his greed little soldiers and Harriet was writing in what was most likely her diary.

“John sweetie, you should be getting in the bath and getting ready for bed.” John pouted as he set his green army soldier figures down.

“Aww… Okay mum…  Can I bring my soldiers with me pleeease?” John asked, looking up at her with big, round hopeful eyes. Julie couldn’t help but smile and sigh.

“Oh alright… Just be careful with them okay?  John nodded and quickly went to grab some clean pajamas and then some of his green soldiers. He quickly went to go to the bathroom, Julie following him. She helped him get the bath going before allowing herself to leave the bathroom, though had John leave the door open just a bit. Just in case he needed something.  With that she went to get herself ready for bed, feeling quite exhausted from the long day. After that she sat on her bed for a little bit to read a book. About forty-five minutes later John was calling her that he was done in the bath. She set her book down and walked to the bathroom to drain out the tub as well as help him dry off a bit. John got dressed, dried off his toy soldiers and headed to his room. Julie followed her son, a smile on his lips.

When they entered the kid’s room, Harriet had gotten changed for bed already and was already under the covers. John put his toys away before going to crawl into his bed. Julie walked over to tuck John into bed, kissing him on the forehead. She then walked over to the other twin bed opposite of the room which belonged to Harriet and gave her a kiss on the forehead that caused Harriet to make a mock face of disgust at.

“Mum! I’m too old for ‘good night kisses’!” Julie chuckled.

“You’re never too old for ‘good night kisses’ Harriet. I still give your father a good night kiss.” She countered back with a cheeky smile which caused Harriet to make a face.

“Whatever mum.” Harriet mumbled, though a small smile was peaking on her lips.

Julie walked towards the door to the room, turning to look at her kids. “Alright, sleep well you two. Sweet dreams.”

“Night mum!” Both the kids called out to their mother. Julie switched off the lights to the room and shut the door, leaving it open just a crack as always. She went back downstairs, walking into the living room.  She walked over to give her husband a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m heading to bed. Will you be up soon?” She asked with a smile.

“Be up in a bit when this is over.” He replied, not even glancing in her direction.

“Okay, love you.”

“Mhmm.”

 

 

Julie held in a sigh, before turning around to head back upstairs, to her room to go and sleep. She knew Jonathan loved her; he could just be a bit… Distant about it. She got herself comfortable on her side of the bed, turning off the night and finally falling asleep.

* * *

 

Jonathan Watson:

Jonathan Watson was a hardheaded man, who still lived back in the days with strict parenting and tight moral beliefs. He also had a bit of a drinking habit, which when he got too intoxicated he would become vulgar and angry. It didn’t happen too often, though it didn’t happen once in a blue moon. Just when the man was having a hard day, which in his opinion happened when ‘the world decided to be a few extra bottles of fucking stupid.’ Most just blamed his harshness and vulgarity from the years he spent oversees, war really roughed up a man.  His dirty blond hair, speckled with gray hairs was still cut short with careful military precision.  He had cold dark brown eyes that could intimidate any enemy. He was about average in height and had gained a bit of a belly, though he was still a very strong man. John got his color from his father, and by his father’s demand, had a very similar cut. Now Harriet got her stubborn personality from Jonathan, she was a rather spitting image of him when she got angry. Of course this caused many fights between himself and his daughter which happened quite frequently. He didn’t try and pick fights with her; no it was more of the other way around.  They just could never see eye to eye.

Jonathan’s day started a bit later then his wife’s, but only by an hour, and he considered his day much more than hers was. He woke up at six, took a quick shower and did a simple bathroom routine of shaving, combing and gelling his hair just a bit, and getting dressed. He then went downstairs and to the kitchen where his wife was preparing his lunch along with a cup of coffee and a bagel. He ate his ‘breakfast’ while he skimmed over the newspaper. After he was done eating, he grabbed his lunch and kissed his wife on the lips.

“I’ll be home around five tonight.” He informed her simply. She smiled and nodded.

“See you then, have a good day at work!” With that Jonathan left the house, and got in his black pickup truck and left. He worked at a car factory as the overseer. He made sure all the machines were functioning and that all the workers were doing their job as well. It was a frustrating job to say the least. Especially when there were so many workers who liked to be quite lazy. As he clocked himself in and put his lunch and jacket in his locker several other workers greeted him. He nodded and grumbled a bit in response. As he walked up to the second floor where he usually walked around to watch what everyone was doing on the floor below.  Being an overseer was easy for Jonathan especially since he had severed in the Vietnam War and being ranked Major. He was used to giving orders and had a sharp eye for mistakes and was ready to snap and ship a worker out if a problem kept up.

“Gerald, Stanley! Pay attention to your bloody machine!” He shouted out to one of the workers who had turned his back to his machine to talk to another worker. Both workers jumped at their boss’ loud voice and mumbled apologize as they turned back to their machines. Jonathan nodded in approval seeing them getting back to work quickly and efficiently.

Things were going relatively smoothly until a worker came up to Jonathan suddenly.

“Sir, Mr. Luis would like to speak to you in his office….” The man looked a bit nervous, which caused Mr. Watson to narrow his eyes.

“Right. I’ll go now. You take over my position till I get back. And don’t let them slack off got it?” The other man nodded, obviously intimidated by Jonathan.

Mr. Luis was the boss of the whole factory. He and Jonathan didn’t often get along very well. Mainly just because they both had tempers that just clashed all the time.  Jonathan walked to his boss’ room and knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Mr. Luis called.

Jonathan walked in and sat down in the chair in front of his boss.

“Any clue way you’re here today Watson?”

“No sir. I have no clue why you’ve called me.” Jonathan replied curtly.

“You’re men are lazy.”  Mr. Luis simply stated. Jonathan felt his jaw clench at his boss’ words.

“I’m trying to keep them on a short leash and keep them going. But they just aren’t getting it.”

“Maybe you’re leash is slipping Mr. Watson. I expect you to tighten it quickly and efficiently. Work is falling behind, and work falls behind, sales fall behind, and when sales fall behind we don’t get money, and I look like an idiot.”

Jonathan had to bite his tongue from saying anything rash to his boss, which was ultimately one of the hardest things of Jonathan’s life.

“I’ll try my hardest sir… “

“You better. Your job is on the line. You can go.”  Jonathan nodded and got up and went back to his post on the second floor. He dismissed the guy who had told him to go to Mr. Luis’s office. He began barking various orders at the workers. His temper was at its peak now. Finally his time came to take a break. He went to the locker room and got his lunch. On his way to work he had stopped by the gas station and got a beer. He always got one, knowing by mid-day he would be needing a bit of liquor to make it through the day. No one ever said anything, knowing they didn’t want to cross Jonathan Watson.

After lunch it was back to overseeing and yelling at the workers. He had a pounding headache and really did not feel like dealing with these inefficient idiots any longer, but he couldn’t quit his job, it paid quite well. Finally around five thirty Jonathan was allowed to do one last walk around, making sure everything was functioning as it should be. He got his things together and left the factory after clocking out and left for home. When he got home he dumped his jacket and boots at the front door, walked into the kitchen, pecked his wife on the cheek.

“Hullo dad!” John greeted him, looking up from his coloring book with a bright smile. Jonathan nodded.

“Finished your homework then?” He asked his son.

“Well… I need to finish reading a few more chapters of my reading book, but I thought I could do that before I went to bed.” John admitted a bit nervously. One of Jonathan’s eyebrows arched upwards.

“You should get your homework done now, rather than later.” John bit his lip.

“O-okay….”

Jonathan heard his daughter snort from the living room where she was watching some reality show.

“You have something to say Harriet?”

Harriet’s head peaked up over the couch.

“John should take a break from doing his work for a bit, he’s been doing homework all evening, up till he got home. He needs a break.”

“Does he? And is that for you to decide? Or how about his father, who has gone through school already decide that for him?” Jonathan snapped at her, which caused Harriet’s eyes to narrow.

“John works really hard! And he deserves a bit of a break, not you bossing him around all the time.”

“Bossing him around? I’m being a parent, something you don’t know anything about. So I expect you young lady to keep your opinions to yourself.”  Jonathan continued to snap at his daughter. Julie and John stayed quiet, knowing better than to get between Harriet and him when both their tempers were raised like that. “I’m tired of you always arguing with me. You’re grounded. From now until I decide when you are not allowed to leave you room accept for dinner and to go to school.” Harriet was just about to argue back. “Don’t you bloody dare argue back with me! I’m fed up with your attitude. Go upstairs right now, and don’t come down until your mother calls you down for dinner!” Jonathan practically yelled at her daughter.

Harriet was obviously fuming. She bit her tongue from arguing back. Finally she let out a noise of displeasure, tossed the remote on the floor, before running upstairs to her and John’s room and slamming the door. Jonathan restrained himself from yelling up at his daughter. Jonathan’s gaze quickly shot to his son.

“Go read your book.” His voice was low, almost daring his son to argue back. John of course wouldn’t. He was a good son and nodded and immediately went to his knapsack and grabbed his book. He went to sit in the living room to read his book. He stayed completely silent.

“Jonathan…. Was yelling at her like that really necessary?” his wife asked him as he went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. He chugged it down quickly, feeling incredibly frustrated.

“Yes! A girl at that age needs to learn her place or else she’ll turn out to be some wild child that sneaks out in the middle of the night and doesn’t listen to a bloody thing we say.” He growled out, obviously annoyed.

“She’s still a child, yelling at her will just make her angrier and more likely to rebel…" Julie said, a frown obvious on her lips.

Jonathan just grunted and finished off his beer.

“I’m going to take a shower….” He grumbled, before going to leave and take a shower. After about a half hour he came back down and went to sit in the living room and turned on the rugby game until his wife called for dinner. Harriet didn’t come down right now, which angered Jonathan even more.

“Harriet Watson get your bloody arse down here right now!” Jonathan called out angrily up the stairs.

“I’m not hungry!” Harriet called back.

“Don’t make me come up there young lady! You’ll be standing at the table eating for the next week!”

It was quite for a moment, before finally Harriet came down, but made no eye contact with anyone, not even her little brother. The air was tense in the Watson dining room. No one s-poke, the only sound was the loud clanks of silverware on glass plates. Jonathan finished his supper quickly.

“I’m done eating. I’ll be in the living room.” He declared, excusing himself from the table and going to the living room and turning the television on very loudly, drowning out any noise from bothering him.

Soon the rest of the Watsons finished eating and made quick haste of cleaning up the kitchen before dispersing to do their usual post dinner activities. Harriet and John went upstairs quietly to their room. Julie joined her husband in the living room and began knitting quietly in the chair next to him. Neither spoke for a majority of the night, finally Julie began putting her knitting needles away.

“I’m going to make sure the kids have gotten into bed and everything… And then I’m going to go to bed. Come to bed soon okay? You’ve had a long day.” With that Julie got up and quietly headed upstairs, not kissing her husband goodnight for once. Jonathan didn’t reply, frowning deeply as his eyes narrowed as he continued to watch the rugby game. Not long after Julie had gone to bed, Jonathan found himself grabbing several beers out of the fridge.

He drank in front of the television late into the night. Eventually he fell asleep in his chair, a half empty bottle of liquor by his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I just couldn't focus on what I wanted to say. Good news is I do know WHAT I plan to write for the next TWO chapters, the hardest thing is just getting it all out. Let's just say the next chapter will include the Holmes'.


	5. In Which We Meet Anita and Cesare Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry this chapter took forever... It just was a lot tougher than I planned it to be... I'm hoping the future chapters wont be like that. I want to give HUGE thanks to my beta elsexton29 (I don't know how to add links, but yeah that's her!) for dealing with me and how long it took me to update this. She is BRILLIANT! She also has AMAZING stories of her own and you should all go check them out as well.
> 
> Anyways to the story!

** Anita Holmes: **

Anita Holmes was the embodiment of what most women idolized: beautiful, tall, thin, smart, and rich. Even as a mother of two, Anita had obtained a body many women worked years to achieve. She had short, dark, curly, brown hair; and stunning blue eyes that left many men wishing they could stare into them for hours. Her youngest son, much to her delight, had inherited his looks from her. She was a stay at home mother, for the most part. She did, however, attend many charity events, along with various upper class social gatherings. She had many connections in the world of wealth and popularity. Almost every weekend was spent either hosting or attending dinner party.

Her day started around eight in the morning. She was woken up by one of the family's maids and, with the grace only a Holmes could master, slid out of bed and headed straight into the shower. She spent the greater part of the morning perfecting her hair and applying her makeup. She then went down for a light breakfast.

As evening approached, Anita would journey outside to the greenhouse. In the back were Anita's personal flowers. They were special because Anita, herself, tended to them instead of one of the many hired caretakers.   
  
Anita's garden was smaller than the others that littered the Holmes's property. The garden contained only roses of various colours. It was probably the second most important thing in her life, coming second to her children, and tying with money. Tending to the garden gave Anita something to do while the boys were off to school, and Cesare was at work.  
  
The garden also was a place for Anita to escape to if she was feeling under the weather or just needed a place to sit and think for a while. On nice days, she would bring a book along with the green watering can. She could spend hours reading by her rose garden, it was soothing, and everyone knew to leave her be when she retreated into its recesses. Once or twice a maid would check if Anita wanted to take her afternoon tea after she had been gone for a lengthy period of time.

Just as she was finishing up watering her roses, the door to the greenhouse opened.

“Yoo-hoo!” A familiar voice called out. “It’s Marian! Your maid said you would be in here.”

Anita looked behind her and smiled as she saw the familiar face at the door. Marian Hudson was a very close friend to Anita. They had met at a book club Marian had hosted a year or so ago, and the two woman had become quite close since then. Marian frequented the Holmes’s mansion usually around lunch time. Anita enjoyed the other woman’s presence immensely. They would occupy the two chairs by the rose garden on nice days and sat around nattering.

“How are you doing Marian? Taking care of yourself I hope?” Anita asked the woman, smiling at her.

“I’ve been well. Working at the shop as much as possible really. It’s been slow, so I’m trying to strain as much money out of it as possible.”

“I see, well I’m sure business will pick up soon. You are a brilliant seamstress. People will see that. I will make sure to recommend you to my friends and send them your way.” Anita promised, looking assured of herself.

“Oh you don’t have to…! That’s too much for me to ask of you…” Marian said, frowning a bit. She didn’t want to be a bother to the other woman.

“Oh think nothing of it Marian! I love your work! You have done so much for me as it is, it’s the least I can do.” Marian smiled at the other.

“Thank you so much Anita…”

“You’re welcome.”

“So how are the boys doing then? Is school going well for them?” Marian asked after a moment of silence.

“Of course, Cesare wouldn’t have it any other way. They enjoy it, though. Both have such a drive to learn, never catch either of them without a book in front of their noses.” Anita replied with a soft laugh.

“You really should find a way to get those boys to have a bit of fun once in a while. All work and no play leads to some unhappy teenage years.” Marian joked. Anita sighed, a small smile on her lips.

 “I know… I try to get them to do fun things. I encourage Mycroft to hang out with kids from school, and Sherlock adventure out as much as possible… They aren’t interested. It worries me, honestly, “Anita admitted, looking towards her hands resting in her lap.

“Sometimes kids just need to grow at their own pace… Just let them know you’re there for them, and things will play out.” Marian said with a smile.

“True… I do think Sherlock may have made a friend, I’m not sure for certain, but the commotion he made a few nights ago was much more intense than usual.” Marian arched a curious brow, signalling Anita to go on. “The other day he was throwing a tantrum because I wouldn’t get one of the cars to bring a ratty bear to some boy he met at the park. He wouldn’t even tell me where he got it.  Just said that a boy named ‘John’ needed it that instant and he had to return it.” Anita informed Marian with a chuckle.

“Sounds like Sherlock has a secret new friend. How cute.” Marian chuckled, smiling. “You should tell Sherlock that he can have his friend visit whenever he pleases, so he will feel more inclined to have his new friend over.”

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea. I’ll keep that in mind for when he gets home from his violin lessons.”  Anita said with a thoughtful look.

“Excuse me ma’am.” A voice said from the door of the greenhouse. Both woman turned around and saw Hans, the Holmes’s butler, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups of tea. “I thought you might want a cup of tea and some biscuits?” Hans offered. He had served with the Holmes family for decades, like his father before him. He was probably one of the most reliable servants in the whole house.

Anita smiled and nodded. “That would be lovely Hans. Thank you.”

Hans nodded and walked over, setting the tray down. He began pouring tea for the woman, and handed them their cups of tea. Both women gave a word of thanks as they began sipping their tea, and Hans left the tray of biscuits with them.

“So, how are you and your husband doing? I know you were having a bit of trouble with the two of you.” Anita asked, a bit of worry in her voice.

Marian sighed, stirring her tea. “It’s a bit better… Nelson has just been having a bit of trouble, one of those mid-life crises he says. I think he’s just still a bit put out since he lost his security job.”

Anita gave the woman a weak smile. “He’ll come around, just give him some time. Men just need some personal space to clear their head. He’ll find a nice new job soon enough. What if I talked to Cesare and see if he can help Nelson get a job?”

Marian looked thoughtful. “That might be a good idea. I’ll talk to him tonight over dinner. I plan on making his favourite pot roast.”

When Marian left, she hugged Anita and promised to visit soon. Anita went inside because the boys would be home soon, and she needed to make sure the cook was starting on dinner.

“Oh! Hrs. Holmes.” One of the maids called as Anita entered the house. She stopped walking, and looked at the woman curiously. “Mr Holmes called, he told me to inform you that he would be home for dinner tonight, a few minutes late perhaps, but home none-the-less.”

Anita felt a mixture of emotions. Cesare didn’t come home all the time, so it would be good for them all to spend time again as a family. However, she was aware that oftentimes trouble arose between the children and their father, or occasionally Anita and Cesare would fall into quarrels. They try not to fight too often, in front of the children.

Anita headed upstairs and reapplied her makeup, preparing herself for the arrival of her husband. She heard the door open.

“Mummy, Sherlock and I are home.” Mycroft’s voice called out.

Anita returned downstairs to greet her children, smiling brightly.

“Mycroft! Sherlock! I’m so glad you are home. How were your days?”

“Mine was alright, Mummy. Nothing exciting has been going on in class.” Mycroft replied simply.

“I see, and your day Sherlock?” Anita asked her youngest son.

Sherlock merely shrugged, not saying anything. He was a child of few words, preferring to keep to himself. He was different, and picked on a lot, so he learned to just keep to himself most of the time.

“Just a shrug? You didn’t learn anything fun and exciting?” Anita asked, tilting her head curiously.

“The Solar System is anything but fun and exciting mummy… It’s dull! Who cares how many planets there are and what it’s like on that planet? It’s not going to affect us anytime soon.” Sherlock replied in a tone that was rather monotone for a child of his age.

“Oh but the stars and planets are such a mystery aren’t they?” 

Sherlock made a ‘tsk’ noise. “Hardly….  I have homework I need to do. If you will excuse me, Mummy…” Sherlock informed her quietly before retreating to his bedroom.

Anita sighed, watching her son walk away. “Alright, dinner will be done at six. You father will be joining us tonight.” Anita called after him.

Sherlock didn't replay. She waited, listening, as his door clicked shut.

“Don’t let him upset you mummy. Sherlock and the tutor just had a bit of a row over the earth revolving around the sun.” Mycroft spoke up.

“I just worry about him sometimes…” Anita replied softly.

“He’s still young. You said Father will be home for dinner?”

“Oh yes, he said he might be a few minutes late, but he will be home none the less (not needed).” Anita said with a smile. Mycroft nodded before heading off to the study to work on his own studies until dinner.

Anita made her way to the living room to finish reading the romance novel she had started earlier that week. 

** Cesare Holmes: **

Businessman.  
  
If you asked anyone to give a defining word about Cesare Holmes, this would be the first word that came to anyone's mind.  
  
Cesare Holmes occupied quite a large position in the British Government, which lead to many hours and sometime even days away from the Holmes's manor. When he was home, he was usually in his study working and only coming out if he was hosting a dinner party or for the occasional family dinner.  
  
Family dinners were an observational tool that allowed Cesare to examine how his sons were developing educationally, mentally, and make sure they were developing into proper young men. He was a man of high expectations both in the business world as well as a father. He desired the finest of what he could afford, which was everything. He expected his sons to become involved in the government, or dive into the business tycoon lifestyle. He would accept nothing less than perfection.  
  
He was the one who decided to get handpicked tutors for his sons. Tutors that were ranked some of the best in Europe. He expected his sons to work from dawn till dusk. Nothing more, nothing less would be tolerated. That was how Cesare’s own father had raised him, and that is how Cesare planned to raise his sons.  
  
When he wasn't away on business, his work day usually started early. Waking up at four AM, showering, and grabbing the coffee the maid had prepared for him. He'd spend about an hour in his study either on the phone or checking his files in preparation for the days ahead. Soon, he would be climbing into the back of the sleek black car waiting for him outside.  
  
During the hour long ride to work he would spend his time on the phone working out foreign policies with numerous people of varying powers. It was about six, when he reached the Palace of Westminster. He to the main office in the elevator, his secretary meeting him as the doors opened.  
  
The secretary was of an average height for a thirty four year old man. His blond hair combed and gelled neatly to the side. He wore the traditional business attire; black pin striped blazer with matching trousers. He was one of Cesare Holmes most trustworthy employees. And Cesare would never admit it, but without Raphael, he would be lost. He was responsible for the hectic schedule that allowed Cesare the lifestyle he was accustomed to.

  
"Good morning Mr Holmes.” he greeted/

“Yes, it seems like a good morning so far… Let’s keep it that way shall we?” Cesare ordered more than asked.

Raphael simply nodded. “Of course, sir.” They moved in the direction of Cesare’s office. “Sir, you have a meeting with the High Court of Justice of England and Wales at eight o’clock. There are some papers for you to fill out for the meeting; they’re on your desk. Then, the Prime Minister will be coming with several other officials from the Ministry of Defence to discuss foreign relations.” Raphael spoke casually as he took out a black agenda that contained the schedule for every planned second of the day..

“Alright good. Can you get me a cup of Double Spiced Chai tea? One cube of sugar, and a splash of milk. I’ll be in my office looking over the papers.” Cesare informed him before going to go into the office.

As Raphael disappeared to go get his boss’s tea, Cesare started reading and filling out the designated forms. A short few minutes later Raphael, came back with his tea.

When the time for his meeting neared, Raphael and Cesare went took the elevator downstairs to the meeting room.  Cesare's meeting with the High Court of Justice of England and Wales was nothing too enthralling, working out the problems with both the Queen’s Bench Division and the Chancery Division.

After the meeting was called to an end, Cesare spoke to the Secretary of State for Justice. They engaged in light conversation, about the meeting and current politics. After parting ways, with a promise to attend the official's dinner party this weekend with Anita, Cesare and Raphael departed from the meeting room.

"Will you be going out for lunch this afternoon, Mr Holmes, or should I bring something up to your office?" Raphael asked.

"I will be eating out, Raphael. I have no pressing agenda for the afternoon and plan to take advantage of it."

They went to an exclusive restaurant for lunch. Always the finest.

After sitting down and ordering Cesare spoke up. “What is my schedule for this week?"

Raphael opened the agenda, glancing over the dates before listing the meetings Cesare had to attend. He then began to add what paperwork will be filling the inbox.

"Alright. I am going to bring Mycroft to the office, for a sort of 'internship'. I want you to start showing him around the building, as well as start showing him a few of the ropes of what you do.” Cesare informed his assistant.

“Of course sir.” He answered. The rest of the lunch went by quietly.

Returning to the Palace of Westminster, Cesare and Raphael headed straight to a meeting room to meet with the Prime Minister and other officials from the Ministry of Defence to discuss military procedures. It was a long meeting, working out several financial issues that followed suit with running a strong military.

Eventually, like all things, it finally came to an end. Which meant Cesare returning to his office to finish up the last of the necessary paperwork before he could leave for the night. Once it was completed, he bid Raphael a good night at the lobby door, and got into the car waiting to take him home.

** Cesare and Anita Holmes **

Six o’clock rolled around quite quickly. Anita and her sons sat down at the long cherry wood dining room table as a maid began serving their food. They heard the front door opening (open) and shut just as the maid was putting food onto Anita’s plate. Cesare was home, finally. They could hear shuffling around as he put his jacket on the coatrack. After a few moments, he entered the dining room. Anita smiled brightly as Cesare came over and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Welcome home darling.” Anita greeted her husband.

Cesare nodded, and took his seat at the head of the table near Anita.

“Hello Father.” Mycroft greeted as well.

“Hello.”

The maid completed serving everyone and returned to the kitchen.

They ate in silence. The only words being passed between them were Anita's asking how Cesare’s day was and if there was any political buzz stirring up in the near future. Cesare kept his answers short and to the point. Anita then went on and began telling them all about her day, as well as Marian stopping by.

“I was wondering if perhaps you would be able to help her husband, Nelson, to get a job Cesare? He’s been going through a tough time lately since he lost his own job. And Marian’s seamstress shop has been slow… Money has been so tight for the two of them lately, I feel horrid for them.”  Anita explained to her husband, letting out a sad sigh. Cesare nodded, a thoughtful look on his face.

“I’ll see what I can do for them.”

“I think Mr Hudson is selling illegal substances.” Sherlock suddenly spoke up.

“Sherlock Sherringford Holmes don’t you dare make such accusations about Nelson Hudson like that! He would never do such a thing.” Anita scolded her son.

“It’s not an accusation.” Sherlock mumbled, but the look from his mother told him to stay quite unless he was prepared for a punishment.

Dinner had become eerily silent. Sherlock was scowling as he pushed his food around the plate.

“Sherlock don’t play with your food.” Anita scolded her son again.

“I’m not hungry. May I be excused?” Sherlock asked.

“No.” Cesare cut in, “Now finish your supper.”

Sherlock huffed, shoving a piece of chicken into his mouth, sulking.

“Mycroft, I want you to join me at the office several days a week. Consider it a sort of internship. My assistant, Raphael will be showing you some basic work to start out with.” Cesare informed his son.

Mycroft nodded, as Anita frowned.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much for him at this age Cesare?” Anita asked her husband. The boys were already taking on a considerable amount of extra activities, and she didn’t want them to be overworked.

“Nonsense. It would only be for a couple of hours in the morning. Then he would go straight to the tutor’s.”  Cesare replied simply.

“I don’t know.”

“Mummy, I would like to work with Father. It would not be too much for me to handle. I promise if it does, I will stop the internship.” Mycroft interrupted their argument.

Anita looked at her son, obviously debating. Finally she sighed and nodded.

“Alright. Fine. But if his grades start to slip, or he seems stressed, he will not be joining you in the office, understand Cesare?” Anita sternly spoke, then taking a sip of the wine in front of her.

“Understood.” Cesare said, before finishing up his dinner.

 “I will be in my study preparing for tomorrow.” Cesare informed them, before quietly making his way to the large study and shutting the door.

“Sherlock sweetie, you should go get ready for bed.” Anita told her son softly. Sherlock just nodded, not saying a word before getting up and going to his room.

“I am going to go to my room for a bit mummy to study, and then I will also be getting ready to sleep.” Mycroft informed his mother, getting up himself and heading up to his own room.

Anita eventually made her way to her and Cesare’s room. She occupied the bathroom to change into her nightgown for bed. She washed off her make-up, and brushed her hair.

When her nightly routine was finished, she decided to check on Sherlock. She knocked softly on the door.

“Come in.” A quite voice replied to the knock. Sherlock was at his desk, looking through the microscope his parents had gotten him for Christmas. Anita smiled. Sherlock had always been fascinated by science. Most parents would be worried, but Anita encouraged it. It was the only thing Sherlock showed any interest in.

“What are you looking at Sherlock?” Anita asked, walking closer to her son.

“I’m comparing the different types of soil from your rose garden to the soil in the other gardens.”

Anita frowned at that. “Sherlock, what have I told you about going in my garden?”

“I didn’t have to go into it, mother. I just took a bit from the edges.” Sherlock argued back.

“Right. Just be careful. You know how much those roses mean to me.” Anita replied with a sigh, as Sherlock nodded. “You should get into bed. It’s getting passed your bedtime.” Anita coaxed softly.

Sherlock pouted, looking up from his research. “I’m not tired! And it’s not like I need that much sleep to function.” Sherlock tried to argue, whining a bit.

“You’re a growing child Sherlock, you need your sleep. Now, don’t argue with me or we’ll have to get your father involved with this.” Anita replied coolly.

Sherlock opened his mouth to argue back, but quickly closed it and nodded, giving up. He turned his microscope off before climbing into his bed. Anita smiled and tucked Sherlock into bed. She leaned down to kiss him on the forehead, and he frowned.

“I’m not a little child, mummy.” He whined, causing Anita to chuckle.

“You’ll always be my little child, Sherlock. Now get to bed. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.” She smiled at him endearingly before flicking off the lights.

“Night mummy.” Sherlock mumbled, before shifting in his bed, and quickly falling asleep. Anita grinned) a bit wider. She silently shut Sherlock’s door, before going to the room next to Sherlock’s and peeping in. Mycroft was already under his covers, though he was reading a book on politics.

“Go to sleep soon, alright Mycroft?”

Mycroft looked up and nodded. “Yes mummy. I’ll just finish this last chapter and go to sleep. Promise.” Mycroft answered, smiling.

Anita returned the gesture, before shutting the door and heading back to her own room. She stayed up for another hour, reading her romance novel before getting under the covers and turning in for bed. It would be another hour when Cesare would make his way to the room, change quietly, and get into bed with his wife, giving her a soft kiss on the cheek, before falling asleep.


	6. In Which There is Abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry these chapters are taking forever to get uploaded. Once again a huge shout out to my beautiful beta [elsexton29](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elsexton29/pseuds/elsexton29) She's so amazing and deals with my long periods of abstinence. 
> 
> WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: CHILD ABUSE, PHYSICAL AND VERBAL!

With Mr. Teddy back, John felt as if he was on top of the world… He was incredibly lonely, and but Sherlock had brought his bear to the front door! John didn’t think he could dream of anything better. Well, there was the one dream where he was a super-super hero and had saved the world from evil hounds. That was a good dream.

                John hadn’t let Mr. Teddy leave his side for one second after that scare. He carried it everywhere, just like he had when he was four. His mother had found it quite charming. John, however, had noticed the intense gaze that his father was emanating. He tried to ignore them, clinging tighter to the beige bear. He just had to keep thinking happy thoughts till Saturday when he would be able to see Sherlock again!

                Unfortunately, it was currently Thursday. Two more long days until he could visit his friend. John was currently lying on the living room floor making use of a giant colouring book. His crayons were spread haphazardly around him. His teacher had finally decided to give the students a night with no homework. In addition, John’s father was working later than usual due to one of his co-workers calling in sick at a last minutes notice. John might be young of course, but he knew how to advantage of a situation like this when it arose. John loved colouring, even if he wasn’t very good at art. It was a past time that he could use his wild imagination for.

                John ended up getting completely absorbed in his colouring, and didn’t know how the clock seemed to spring forward. Suddenly, though he had heard a familiar rumble of a truck pulling into the driveway, his eyes went as wide as dinner plates. Looking around him, he noticed how messy the living room had become. Papers, crayons, and crayon wrapper bits found themselves scattered around like shrapnel from an explosion. His father would be furious. With quick haste, John sat up and began scooping up as many of the crayons and papers as he could and putting them into the shoebox which he kept everything. Mr. Watson did not like it when Harry or John brought any of their toys or belongings into “his” living room. They both had a room of their own, and it should contain the mess of child's play. John could hear the garage door sliding open and his heart began racing. He did not want to ruin his nice afternoon. John quickly picked up the box of crayons and his activity book with a bit of trouble, and briskly headed for the stairs. He heard the truck door slam shut by the time he reached the top. His father was in a bad mood already then. John could feel the dread wash over him quickly as he burst into his room. He practically threw the shoebox and papers down on his bed.

                “Shoot!” John yelped as the box of crayons toppled over upon landing on his bed, a large quantity of them falling behind it. He didn’t have much time to mull over how he would get them back because the door connecting the kitchen and garage slammed shut. He could hear his father cursing and muttering to himself.

 _It’s okay John…_ John thought to himself. _The living room is cleaned up. No problems. Dad can’t be mad if he doesn’t know._

                John repeated the lines like a mantra in his head as he took in a deep breath, and began heading downstairs. The audible noise encompassing his dad's usual routine of grabbing a beer as soon as he entered the house met John's ears of going straight to the fridge and grabbing a beer. His young heart was finally beginning to settle down.

                Mr. Watson was just crossing from the kitchen to the living room when John spotted him, and put on a wide, fakesmile. “Hello dad!”

                His father just let out a grunt in response, causing John’s smile to fall a bit. John tried not to let his father’s unresponsive behaviour get to him. It was customary, and it shouldn't hurt like it did. Some things would never change, and people most certainly didn’t change. Especially if said people were like Jonathan Watson.

                John was digging around in the fridge when he heard a wail that nearly caused the poor boy to jump out of his skin.

                “John Hamish Watson! Get your fucking arse in here right now!” Mr. Watson’s voice screeched throughout the house. John could feel the colour drain instantly from his face. He wished right not necessary now he could just turn into a piece of the tiled floor and disappear.

                Instead John took his only option and scurried into the living room. “Y-Yeah dad?”

                “What the hell is this?!” Jonathan snapped, pointing down to a broken crayon by his foot. It was obvious now what had happened. John **,** in his attempt to clean the crayons up, missed one that was hidingin front of his father’s recliner, andthe second his father went to sit down, he stepped on the crayon.

                There was no use lying now. John swallowed the thick lump that had grown in his throat. “O-One of my crayons….”

                “Why is it in the living room?” His father barked at his son, who shrank back in fear.

                “I… I was colouring sir….” John quietly answered, not making eye contact with his father, who was slowly turning a deep shade of red in rage.

                That response only made the older man even angrier. “I thought I made it clear that neither your sister nor you are allowed to bring your fucking toys into MY living room. Or did I fucking stutter?”

                “I… I…” John couldn’t find any way to retort at that point.

                “Thought you could pull one over your stupid old man, isn’t that right?” Jonathan mocked in a venomous tone.

                “N-No… I… I wanted to watch the telly and draw!” John tried to argue back.

                That wasn’t a smart idea, because before John could even blink back the tear that was threatening to fall a strong stinging sensation flared across John’s cheek. His father had slapped John, hard. Not for the first time. However, no matter how many times his dad had hit him, it never prevented the shocked expression from crossing John’s face.

                “That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve heard all day!” His dad snarled, hand still raised, readying to strike again.

                “I-I’m sorry d-dad.” John blubbered to his father. Tears were already falling down the young boy’s cheeks. The salty droplets stung his burning cheek.

                “Like hell you are. You think you’re so fucking clever. Thinking you can just sneak about and do as you please don’t you? Then you try and pretend like you didn’t know what you were doing, or you’re oh SO sorry! I’m not a fucking idiot John!” Mr. Watson yelled and slapped John again, who tried in vain to cover his cheek with his hand before his father could land another blow, but that only seemed to enrage the man even further. “Can’t handle the punishment for something I’ve told you at LEAST ten times NOT to fucking do? Fucking coward. That’s what you are.”

                “I’m-sorry-I’m-sorry!” John cried out. Jonathan grabbed his son’s hand in one hand, before slapping his son once more on the same, reddening cheek which caused the child to cry out in pain. Mrs. Watson who was just coming in the house from painting the shed in the backyard was only catching the end of the fight. She had had her radio on quite loud, and being absorbed in her work hadn’t heard any of her husband’s screaming till now.

                “Damn fucking right you’re sorry! Now go to you room and don’t come out until I fucking tell you to!” Julian heard her husband growl. She quickly made her way to the livingroom, and nearly collided with her puffy eyed son.

                “What happened?” She asked as she quickly kneeled down to embrace him. Jonathan glared at them with disdain.

                “The brat was drawing in MY living room! And fucking left a crayon on the floor, which I stepped on!” He informed his wife.

                “You didn’t have to hit him Jonath-“ She was interrupted by her husband. “Like fucking hell I didn’t! I’ve told him time and time again not to bring his toys into the living room! And what does he do? Bring his fucking toys into the living room while I’m gone, and then tries to hide it like some fucking criminal.”

                Julian bit her lip. “I still don’t think-“

                “Julian shut up. John is going up to his room to think about what he’s done. NOW!” Jonathan snapped, obviously at the end of his chain. His biting tone made his wife jump **.**

She looked down at her crying son and gave him a pitiful look. “Go to your room okay Johnny?” She ordered her son softly. John merely nodded his head and headed upstairs.

John walked up to his room, shutting the door to his and Harry's room with his head bowed in shame.

He threw himself onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow and letting out another sob. He felt like absolute shite really. He knew his cheek would most likely swell and bruise in no time. That's what happened to all the other bruises his father inflicted on him. He would need to find a way to hide this bruise. He had a feeling it would last a while.

Suddenly an important fact dawned on John. He was supposed to be hanging out with Sherlock tomorrow! He didn't want to have the small boy see him like this, nor did he want to have to lie to Sherlock about the origins of his bruise. He knew the other boy would notice it instantly.  What was he supposed to do? There was no way for him to call Sherlock or his family up and cancel their hang out time, and John wasn't about to just let Sherlock hang out in the park all by himself waiting for John. That was mean. John wasn't mean.

John just shook his head. He didn't know what to do. His cheek hurt, his eyes hurt, and his chest hurt. He picked his head up just a bit, glancing for Mr. Teddy. As soon as John's puffy eyes spotted to worn bear, he immediately reached out and held the bear tightly to his chest.  At least he would always have Mr. Teddy and Mr. Teddy would never hurt John, never ever.

John was curled up on his bed for quite a while, just sobbing quietly to himself when a knock on his door made him lift his head up just a bit.

“Johnny? I’m coming in….” His mother’s voice called through the door, right before he heard the door open and his mother step in the room.

John just hiccupped in response and buried his head back into the pillow. He didn’t even feel like talking to him mum right now. He felt his bed dip slightly as his mother perched upon the edge. Next, he felt her hand gently begin to rub his back in a soothing manner.

“You know your father doesn’t mean anything that he say. He’s just had a hard day at work.” Mrs. Watson said softly, trying to calm her son down. This definitely wasn't the first time like this something had happened, but Mrs. Watson didn’t know what to do. She knew deep down inside Jonathan didn’t mean to be harsh, he was just overworked. She would talk to him about a vacation maybe.

John just sniffled in response. He tried to believe his mother, really he did try. When his father yelled at him like that, it was so hard to believe he didn’t mean such harsh words.

His mum kept whispering soft comforting sentiment, just willing the tears on her son’s face disappear. It took a lot of coaxing, but finally the last tear went to fall and John wiped it away with the sleeve of his wool jumper.

“Let’s clean you face up, then would you like to help me cook some dinner? I was thinking some chicken tenders and some mac n’ cheese?” She asked with a warm smile.

John seemed to perk up at that offer. He nodded. “Okay! Can I get some ice too for my cheek? It still hurts a lot.”

“Of course you can.” She replied with a smile.

John hopped off of his bed and went to the bathroom to wash his face. Julian followed him to the bathroom, and watched as he cleaned himself up. She gave a sad smile. That was her brave little soldier. John always picked himself back up and he tried not to let his pain show through.

“All clean?” Julian asked softly. John smiled faintly and nodded. “Let’s prepare some dinner.”

The rest of the evening went back as smoothly as any evening really could go in the Watson house. No one said anything throughout dinner. After helping his mother, John went back to his room and opened a book to read for a while before he got tired. At least tomorrow would bring the added joy of seeing Sherlock. With that thought in mind, John was able to settle in for the night, the tingling in his swollen cheek a distant thought in his mind as he allowed himself to get lost in his book. 


	7. In Which It Rains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh I'm horribly sorry. This took forever to get up. I have some proper excuses this time instead of just plain laziness. I graduated! As well as had an Anime Convention to go to and finishing up school and all of that fun stuff.
> 
> With it being summer I do hope to update much sooner and all of that jazz.
> 
> Also once again a MAJOR shout out to my BETA [elsexton29](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elsexton29/pseuds/elsexton29) She's amazing for staying with me even though I take forever to get things to her. And she is an amazing writer so please, please go check out some of her works! Love you so much!
> 
> Forgive major errors. I'm on a bus to San Antonio and ugh reception sucks and everything technology is being a butt.

Saturday couldn’t arrive quick enough for Sherlock Holmes. As soon as sleep began to fade from his eyes, he was jumping out of bed and hurrying to get dressed. He didn’t even take a moment to brush his hair. Before dashing from his room, he grabbed his journal. The little notebook contained notes from various experiments he had conducted. He wanted to check up on some of his experiments when he met up with John in the park.

                Sherlock couldn’t quite figure out yet why the other boy seemed to excite him so much. It was a puzzle that the he couldn’t solve and it was frustrating. Sherlock eventually just drew a line to the conclusion that his interest in John was just because John offered friendship, something no other person had offered Sherlock before. John hadn’t run away when he saw Sherlock examining a dead bird. Other children typically started wailing for their parents.

                Sherlock was so caught up in his thoughts as raced down the stairs to get a quick snack from the kitchen, he didn’t even hear the rain pattering against the windows. He hardly even took notice of his mother who was sitting at the kitchen table sipping her morning tea.

                “Good Morning Sherlock.” His mother greeted as he pulled open the fridge and began rummaging around a bit.

                “Morning Mummy.” Sherlock replied as he pulled out some raspberry jam. “I’m going to the park today to hang out with John if you remember. I’m quite excited to show him the experiments I’ve been working on. He doesn’t seem like he is too squeamish, which is good, I hate all the wailing that children do when they see a dead squirrel or mouse or something tedious like tha-“

                “Sherlock.” Anita cut in with a bit of a edge to her voice. She didn’t like her son poking at dead animals, who knew what they could have picked up. She also realized that Sherlock was unaware of the current weather conditions.

                “The animals are fine Mummy. Barely even touching the rigor mortis stage and you know that I always have a pair of clean gloves with me. Anyways, I did notice John still isn’t quite fond of dead animals, squeamish or not. I believe he will find the experiment with the bee hive under the bench near the drinking fountain quite interesting. I’ve been studying bee movements-“ Sherlock wastaking a piece of toast out of the toaster when his mother tried to interrupt him again.

                “Sherlock.” Her voice was raised a bit louder, trying to catch her son’s attention without being too rude about it. She hated being a hypocrite, especially when it came to mannerism.

                “We will examine it from a safe enough distance, and I will not bother the hive this time. I promise. Did you know Honey Bees, otherwise known as Apis mellifera, communicate by ‘dancing’? The correct term exactly is a Waggle Dance. The Waggle Dance is how the bees communicate with each other about food resources. It correlates to the distance, direction and even the quality of the resource. Example the better to the resource the faster the bee will move in order to grab the attention of the other bees. It really is fascinating. I was thinking of later I might go to the library to get a book on bees to get a bit more information about bee communicate-“ Sherlock was carefully spreading the jam on his toast when his mother interrupted him for the last time.

                “Sherlock. You can’t go to the park today.” Her words caught Sherlock’s attention immediately. Her frown deepened as she watched Sherlock drop the butter knife, turning quickly on his heel to face her.

                “Why not?” Sherlock had a deadpanned expression on his face.

                “Sweetie, look out the window.” Mrs. Holmes instructed, motioning to the kitchen window above the sink.

                Sherlock looked to the window, and instantly his face fell. It was raining. He knew his Mummy would not let him go to the park to hang out with John in this weather.

                “But… I promised John Mummy! I need to go the park! This isn’t fair!”  Sherlock complained, stomping his foot on the floor.

                Anita shook her head. “I’m sorry sweetie, I don’t think John’s mother would let him out in this weather either.”

                “It’s not fair! It’s not bloody fair!” Sherlock yelled out.

                “Sherlock! Watch your tongue. I know this isn’t fair, but we can’t get everything we want.” Anita tried to keep her voice leveled as she spoke to her son.

                Sherlock’s hands balled into fists, his cheeks reddened in frustration. It just wasn’t fair. Why was it anytime it seemed like something was going good for him, something or someone had to mess everything up for him? Maybe he just wasn’t meant to have friends. Maybe he was the freak that everyone in his public school claimed him to be. Sherlock could feel tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. No! He couldn’t cry! Mycroft had claimed on several occasions that emotions like crying were for babies, and Sherlock was no baby. He wouldn’t cry. Without uttering a word Sherlock simply began walking out of the kitchen, leaving his jam covered toast abandoned on the counter.

                “Sherlock! Your breakfast?” Sherlock heard his mother call after him.

                “I’m not hungry! I’m going to my room.” Sherlock replied in a sharp tone, hiding the pain that brewed in his heart.

                Anita desired the best out of her children, but she couldn't bring herself to punish Sherlock for being cross with her. She knew the burden he carried around. Sherlock required companionship. He wasn't like Mycroft, he had always been the passionate brother. His infallible logic clouded with emotions that he would never admit he possessed.

                Anita sat at the dining table for a solid ten minutes before an idea hit her. <i> >If the boys couldn’t play outside, why not play inside? </i> A bright smile formed on Anita’s thin red lips as she quickly stood up and went to the study where she knew her eldest son would no doubt be nose deep in some sort of political book.

                “Mycroft?” Anita called out to her son who didn’t so much as look up from the large book he was absorbed in when she entered the room. However, upon hearing his mother’s voice Mycroft’s attention quickly shifted to her. “Yes Mummy?”

                “Sorry for disturbing you dear, but I was hoping you would help me with a small favour?” Anita asked. She knew she really didn’t have to ask. Mycroft would do anything she asked of him without second thoughts. However, Anita was not the type of woman to take advantage of her son like that.

                “Of course Mummy. What can I help you with?” Mycroft replied, placing a bookmark in his book and closing it. Anita had his full attention now.

                “Do you know the name of Sherlock’s new friend? And possibly a way for me to contact him or his mother?” It was a question she knew Mycroft had the answer to already. Mycroft worried constantly about his younger brother, and made it his mission to know everything and everyone that happened to show up in Sherlock’s life.

                “His name is John H. Watson. About a year older than Sherlock, lower class, 18 Saxonbury Avenue, Shepperton is where he resides, with both parents and an elder sister named Harriet. His number is on the desk.” Mycroft recited the information without a moment’s hesitation.

                Not a day would go by that the intelligence of her sons did not surprise Anita. Both boys were gifted, to say the least. It often was the cause of way both of her sons had troubles in social situations. They chose books over proper conversations.  However, despite not meeting the social norm, Anita loved her sons deeply. She smiled brightly and walked over to kiss Mycroft on the top of the head in praise.

                “You’re such a good elder brother Mycroft. Even if Sherlock doesn’t think so. Thank you so much.”

                “Anything for you Mummy.” Mycroft replied, his ears reddening a bit at the praise.

                “I’ll let you get back to your book. I have a phone call to make.” Anita replied, before quickly making her way out of the room and back to the kitchen to the phone that sat on the counter.

 

 

                Sherlock wasn’t the only one feeling depressed about the rain. John had woken up from a throbbing sensation in his cheek, and the second thing registering besides the pain, was the rain pattering against his window. John didn’t think his heart could sink lower in his chest than it did just then. He couldn’t see Sherlock today. The only thing John had been looking forward to was taken away.

                John took in a deep breath, he needed to soldier on like he always did. He left his camouflaged pajamas on and trudged downstairs. He didn’t even bother saying good morning to his mother who greeted him with her usual bright smile. Of course John’s unresponsive behaviour worried the woman, so she followed her son into the kitchen in hopes of getting a few answers.

                “Do you want me to make you some eggs and toast with jam? I bought your favourite brand of Raspberry Jam.” Mrs. Watson asked her son, knowing that if anything was wrong that question would reveal the answer. John never turned down any meal that had his favourite raspberry jam in it.

                “No thanks mum… I think I might just have some cereal…” He mumbled as he used the little stepping stool they kept in the kitchen for him to reach the bowls in the cabinets.

                And there was Mrs. Watson’s answer.

                “John, what’s wrong sweetie? And don’t lie to me.” She urged the boy, who sighed and shut the fridge before he pulled the milk out.

                John turned to his mother, looking at her with sad eyes.               “It’s raining out… I can’t hang out with Sherlock at the park today.” He informed her. “I’ve been looking forward to this since Sherlock dropped off Mr. Teddy last week.”

                Mrs. Watson’s face instantly softened. She knew how these little things could really upset he son,

                “Oh sweetie… I’m sorry. If I could stop the rain, you know I would do it in a heartbeat I know how much you wanted to spend the day with Sherlock. I wish I could help. But I’ve got to go to work today.” Mrs. Watson replied honestly, bending down to hug her son tightly.

                “It’s okay mum. I know you’re doing your best. Is Harriet going to be watching me or is it going to be a babysitter.?” John asked softly, hugging his mother back tightly. He wished she didn’t have work today. He just wanted to stay with her and watched movies. It was how they comforted each other when one or the other was upset.

                “Harriet went over to Clara’s for the day, so I asked Ms. Warner.” Mrs. Watson admitted. John simply nodded, looking down at the tiled kitchen floor.

                John felt a twist of jealousy hit his gut. He envied that his sister was able to go over to her friend’s house. Clara lived a few houses down, and could easily take an umbrella and walk down to her best friend’s house. John didn’t know where Sherlock lived though he had a feeling though that it probably wasn’t anywhere close to their home.

                “Hey, we’ll find a way for you and Sherlock to get together at the park some other time okay? We’ll get you two together soon. Promise.” Julian said smoothly. She bent down to hug and kiss John on the forehead. “I have to finish getting ready for work now.” John nodded, still lookingupset. “How about when we get home we have ourselves a little movie marathon? Your dad won’t be home until late, so we have the living room to ourselves.” Julian promised her son, a wide smile on her lips.

                John seemed to light up at his mother’s words. At least that was something that couldn’t be taken away from him. “Okay! Can we watch The Jungle Book?”

                 Julian nodded. “Of course, we can watch whatever we want. I’ll by some popcorn on my way home.” John’s mood seemed to change completely as he began looking forward to tonight. “Now I need to finish getting ready. You eat your breakfast okay?”

                “Okay! Love you mom!” John said as he hugged her tightly

                “Love you too sweetie.” She hugged him back just as tightly. They broke away after a few moments. “If you need anything just let me know.” Julian said, before going to go back upstairs. John went back to preparing his cereal. He still wished he could spend the day with his friend, but at least he could spend the evening with just him and his mum.

                Not ten minutes after Julian had gone up the stairs, suddenly the Watson’s phone began to ring. John hopped out of the chair and quickly padded across the kitchen floor to answer the phone.

                “Watson residence! This is John speaking, who’s this?” John greeted in his usual cheery voice. He wasn’t exactly allowed to answer the phone, well at least not while his father was home. But his mum was busy, so he figured he had to get it.

                A smooth feminine voice answered from the other side of the phone. “Why hello John. This Anita Holmes, Sherlock’s mother.”

                John’s eyes went wide at the other woman’s voice. Sherlock’s mother! Why was she calling the house? “H-Hello ma’am. How are you?” John asked, voice shaking a bit now, his nerves getting the best of him. He hadn’t noticed his mother had come down the stairs to investigate who it was that called.

                “Such a well-mannered young man you are. I’m doing lovely today. And how are you?” Mrs. Holmes replied, John could hear the smile in her light voice.

                “I’m okay… I was looking forward to hanging out with Sherlock today at the park though.” He answered.

                Mrs. Holmes gave a soft chuckle, “Well that happens to be the cause of my call. Would your mother happen to be home John?”

                John was a bit confused, what did that mean? “Yeah she is, one moment please.”’

                “Of course dear.” Was the response John got before he went to get his mother, only to find she was standing in the kitchen entry way, watching John.

                “Who’s that sweetie?” His mother asked, head tilted a bit.

                “It’s Sherlock’s mum. She wants to talk to you.” John informed his mother, handing her the phone.

                “Hello? This is Julian Watson speaking.” Julian answered as she took the phone from her son.

                “Hello Julian, this is Anita Holmes. As John has informed you I am Sherlock’s mother.”

                “It is lovely to speak to you. John talks about your son endlessly. It’s a shame they were not able to get together today.” Julian commented, shifting the phone to her other ear. She noticed John watching her on the phone with big curious eyes.

                “That happens to be the reason for my call actually. I was thinking that perhaps the boys could still get together, I would not mind having John over to our home for a play date if that is alright with you?” On Anita’s end of the phone, Sherlock was looking up at his mother with the same expression. She gave a smile to her son. Sherlock elicited an excited grin in return, a hand clutching at the bottom of her dress in anticipation.

                Julian bit her lip, a look of uncertainty on her face. John was curious as to what Sherlock’s mother had just said. “Well, Unfortunately I’ve got work today. I wouldn't be able to drop John off…” Julian trailed off a bit, glancing down at her son, she saw his face fall a bit having worked out more or less what they were talking about.

                “We could come get him.  Sherlock really wants to spend the day with John. And I have no plans for this afternoon. And we would be delighted to have John over at our home.” Anita could practically feeling Sherlock buzzing with excitement.

                John watched as his mother seemed to really be thinking something over. “Alright, I think John would love that very much. And I appreciate your offer greatly.” John tilted his head in confusion. What was his mother agreeing too? Could he see Sherlock?

                “Wonderful! Sherlock and I shall drive over to pick John up straight away.” Anita had a smile on her lips as she watched Sherlock’s face light up at her words. This is what she looked forward to as a mother. Seeing such a look of pure happiness on her child’s face.

                “Sounds like a plan. I will see you soon Mrs. Holmes.” Julian replied, glancing down to her son, giving him a bright smile.

                Anita gave another small chuckle. “Please, Anita will do. And I will see you and John soon. Goodbye Julian.”

                “Goodbye Anita.” With that Julian hung up. “Anita and Sherlock are coming to pick you up so you can go to Sherlock’s for the day.” She informed her son, her smile getting wider and wider as she spoke.

                “Really?! You’re the best mummy!” John exclaimed as he jumped and hugged his mother tightly. Julian laughed and hugged her son back just as tightly.

                “Don’t thank me. Thank the Holmes for offering to pick you up. Now go get whatever you might want to bring to Sherlock’s okay? I’m not sure how long till they get here.” Julian instructed her son with a smile.

                John grinned and gave his mother another tight hug before running upstairs. “Love you mum!”

                Julian chuckled. “I love you too sweetie.” She called after him.

                John began rummaging around his room. Trying to figure out what to bring over to his knew friend’s. He wasn’t sure what sort of things besides experiments that Sherlock liked. John bit his lower lip, glancing around. His eyes landed on his tub green soldiers. John smiled. Those were his favourite to play with besides colouring. He got a small backpack and put the tub of soldiers in there. He also grabbed Mr. Teddy, seeing that as a fitting toy.

                Soon John heard a knock at the door, and his mother call up to him, “John! Sherlock and Mrs. Holmes are here!”

                John grinned to himself, throwing on his pack and running down the stairs. His eyes flashed with excitement as he saw his friend standing by his front door.

                “Hi Sherlock!” John greeted.

                “Good evening John. How are you doing?” Sherlock replied coolly.

                “Sherlock has never looked happier. He doesn’t have many friends.” Anita admitted to Julian, watching her son. “He’s very intelligent for his age. It often leads him to getting into a lot of trouble. He’s such a sweet boy at heart though.”

                “He seems like a nice boy. John never stops talking about him, of course John is probably too good for his own good.” Anita noticed Julian’s face fall a bit. She could tell something wasn’t quite right, however she figured that was a subject for another day.

                “I think they’ll be best of friends in all honesty. They seem to be the best of opposites.”  Anita commented, lightening the subject again.

                “You’re right. They will be.” Julian replied.

                Anita looked to the clock, and then to the kids. “Well, we should get going so John’s mother can get to work shall we boys?” Both boys looked at Anita and nodded enthusiastically. John quickly moved to hug his mother once again.

                “Have a good day at work mum. Say hi to Mr. Stewart for me.” John said, looking up to her with a soft smile.

                “Of course sweetie. You be on your best behaviour for the Holmes’s okay? Though I know you’re always on your best behaviour.” Julian hugged her son back, kissing him on the cheek. “Have a good time. And I will see you tonight, okay?” John nodded. “Alright. Go have a fun day with your friend.” She let go of John.

                “Bye mum!” John waved, and quickly returned to Sherlock’s side.

                “I’ll have him home around six?” Anita offered.

                Julian nodded. “That works for. Oh!” She quickly grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. She quickly scribbled down her work number. She handed it to Anita. “Here’s my work number if you need anything. Also John is lactose intolerant. Nothing too severe, he can have dairy products in very small portions.  Other than that, he does not have any sort of health problem.”

                Anita nodded. “Alright. We’ll keep that in mind. Well we will see you later this evening. Take care Julian.”

                “Thank you again. Have a lovely day everyone.” Julian waved them off as they exited the house. She watched them all get into a sleek black car. John had found new friend and things were looking up for him.

 

                As they pulled into the driveway John’s jaw almost dropped to the floor of the car. The house, no the mansion wasn’t like anything John had ever seen outside of the telly. The size of the house could have fit about three of John’s own home and still have car space.

                “This is where you live?” John asked turning his attention back to Sherlock and his mother.

                “Obviously.” Sherlock replied a bit more rudely than planned. He could never hold back his obvious distaste for questions that were as obvious as the sky was blue.

                Anita nudged Sherlock with her foot, casting him a look of disapproval at his bluntness. She didn’t want Sherlock to lose this friend. She could tell John was the miracle they had all secretly praying for.

                Sherlock understood immediately what his mother’s look was for, and cleared his throat. “Yes. We do. The Holmes have owned this particular home for roughly four generations. It happens to look much larger on the inside.”

                John suddenly let out what could be considered a mix between a snort and a laugh. Sherlock instantly became confused as John continued to try and stifle his giggles.

                “What’s so funny? I did not realize I had made a joke?” Sherlock questioned, his brows knitted in complete confusion.

                “It’s bigger on the inside!” John repeated Sherlock, expecting that to be enough of an explanation. However after stopping his giggles long enough to look at his friend, he realized Sherlock was still confused. “Doctor Who….?” He prompted, hoping that would click for Sherlock.

                It didn’t.

                “You’ve never seen Doctor Who?! It’s only the bestest show on all of television!” John exclaimed, beaming.

                Sherlock on the other hand did not look very convinced. “I don’t care much for television. Most shows I find tedious and predictable.”

                “I dunno. I think there are some pretty cool shows on the telly…” John trailed off, dropping the subject.

                John’s attention quickly switched as the car came to a stop in front of the large mansion. The driver as well as another man were both holding umbrellas and helped the three of them out of the car and to the house. As soon as they were in, John understood what Sherlock meant by bigger on the inside. The ceilings were high, decorated with beautiful chandlers. The walls were panelled with the finest wood and wallpapers. Everything screamed money, but at the same time everything was elegant.

                John was so caught up in the decorations he didn’t even noticed the doorman trying to help him out of his raincoat.

                “It’s so pretty…” John whispered to no one in particular.

                Anita had heard him of course and smiled. “Thank you John. We try our best to keep it as clean and still keep the Holmes personality showing.” John nodded as he continued to look around, standing in one spot only. “Sherlock, why don’t you give John a bit of a tour of the house?” Anita prompted her son who was in the middle of toeing off his shoes.

                Sherlock looked up at her and nodded. “Alright, John please take off your shoes and follow me.” John seemed to snap out of his trance upon hearing the other’s words. “O-oh! Of course sorry.” John quickly took off his shoes, blushing in embarrassment. He quickly followed after Sherlock who had already began padding down a hallway.

                “Make sure to pay attention to what I show you. I dislike repeating myself.” Sherlock instructed the other. John nodded, letting everything slowly sink in. “This is the main sitting room, during parties Mummy and Father will take away most of the furniture and host in this room mainly.” They had entered a large room. The furniture was sparse for the most part. It was less for the Holmes to move come party time.

                “Wow. Do you guys host a lot of parties? Or just holiday parties?” John asked, walking around the room a bit, taking in the size of the room.

                “We hold a party for pretty much every holiday. And then a few more if Father has something important going on in politics or if Mummy just feels like a social gathering. I don’t keep track. I… Don’t like parties.”  Sherlock admitted a bit awkwardly.

                “What? Why? Parties are fun! I like going to parties, even though I don’t go to a lot of them.” John looked at his friend curiously.

                “Too many people, making too much noise. And as Mycroft likes to say, I do not have a filter on my mouth. It’s not my fault they are all so easy to read.” Sherlock explained, huffing a bit.

                John giggled. “Adult parties are usually boring anyways. They don’t talk about anything cool.”

                Sherlock smiled a bit. “I can agree with you on that. Anyways, let’s move on.” Sherlock continued walking, John right by his side. He found he liked having John there, by his side. It comforted him in a way that he could not quite explain outside of his mind palace.

                Sherlock showed John every nook and cranny on the first floor. From the servant’s lounging quarters to the Holmes’s personal library. John, of course, was mesmerized by everything.

                “You guys have your own library?!” John asked in complete awe as he began looking at some of the books. However, he quickly learned it was nothing like the school’s library. All the books were large and looked rather boring. Most of the books were about politics, countries, and some sections were about science. “You guys like interesting stuff.” John commented as he continued to scan the shelves of books.

                “I usually only stick to the science books. Government is more my father and Mycroft’s choice of interest.” Sherlock explained as he followed John. He observed how John seemed to linger on the books relating to medicine and medical health. Finally after growing restless in one room, Sherlock spoke up again. “Shall we move to the second floor?” He offered.

                John quickly nodded. He was still enthusiastic.

                Sherlock nodded and lead John towards the staircase. “Most of the rooms on this floor are bedrooms.” Sherlock informed John as they began down one hallway. As they walked, the walls were lined were portraits of what John assumed were of members of Sherlock’s family. At the end of hall was a large portrait. It was of Sherlock and his family. John stopped in front of it as Sherlock went down another hall.

                The picture was so lifelike. John was looking at each member of the family with a close eye. Looking at Sherlock in the picture, could take a guess that the painting wasn’t painted too long ago. John wondered how they managed to get Sherlock to sit still for so long. Sherlock didn’t look like the type how could sit still for too long. He could tell Sherlock was bored though. He didn’t look pleased. Actually, all the men in the photo looked like they would prefer to be anywhere else but here right now. John looked at Sherlock’s father and shivered a bit. The man looked rather intimidating. More so than his own father, if such a thing was really possible. John looked to a teen that stood next to Sherlock. He looked a lot like Sherlock’s further.

                “John. Lingering behind isn’t something I care to do. So hurry up.” Sherlock’s voice startled John out of his thoughts.

                “Huh? Oh sorry… So this is your brother then?” John asked, looking back to the painting of the elder Holmes sibling.

                Sherlock snorted. “Ob-“ He stopped himself, he needed to be nicer. That’s what Mummy had implied on the car ride here. “Yes. It is. Mycroft is his name. And he’s a huge prat He thinks he’s better than me all because he is older. And he’s fat.”

                John started to giggle. What Sherlock had said was probably the only time since John had met him that Sherlock actually sounded his age. John’s giggles were contagious, Sherlock didn’t know why, but he was laughing as well. Soon their giggles calmed down and John looked at Sherlock and smiled. Sherlock smiled back for a brief moment, before realizing he was being childish and cleared his throat.

                “Shall I show you the rest of the rooms?” Sherlock asked, serious once again. John blinked, but nodded. “Oh right. Sure! I wanna see your room!” John exclaimed, beaming.

                “My room isn’t anything special.” Sherlock informed John as he began leading John down the hall. He pointed out Mycroft’s room, and then his parent’s. Lastly it was Sherlock’s room. “And here we are.” Sherlock announced as he stood in front of the door to his room.

                “Well! Open it up.” John urged the other on.

                Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. Honestly sentiment is dull.” He opened his door and let John step in first. He waited to hear the other’s reaction. “Well?”

                “It could use a bit of cleaning up honestly.” John admitted. It was true. The room was incredibly dirty. There were books and papers scattered everywhere. Various jars of different colours and… Was that a…? No John didn’t want to know.

                Sherlock’s cheeks became a sharp shade of red. “O-oh well. I can clean things up of course. Nothing too challenging.” Sherlock quickly said as he went about moving some books aside and shuffling several stacks of paper together and shoving them on his bookshelves.

                John smiled a bit. “It’s okay Sherlock! Some people are messy. Harriet’s side of the room is incredibly messy!” John began looking around Sherlock’s room as Sherlock stood in the middle room watching John. He couldn’t explain it but he felt incredibly nervous of John’s opinion of him. But why did he care? John wasn’t anything special. He was like everyone else. Dull and okay maybe a bit of a curious case of something. However Sherlock couldn’t figure out what it was.

                “You have some cool stuff…” John commented as he poked at what he hoped was a fake stuffed cat posed on a shelf.

                “That’s my first pet. Obourowatabunost. He was a good cat. Sadly he got into some left over chemicals I had been experimenting with. He did always end up getting into some troublesome situations.” Sherlock explained.

                “You have weird names for your pets.” Was the only thing John brought up. Not that Sherlock’s cat had been poisoned. Not that it was Sherlock’s fault that the cat died.

                “I… Yes. It’s a trait that is passed down in my family.” Sherlock replied. He couldn’t believe that was all John had to say about the cat. Nothing more, nothing less.

                “So, what do you wanna do together?” John questioned once again.

                Sherlock looked to John, and suddenly grinned. “I’ve got an experiment on the effects of different types of acids on suit fabrics…. Mycroft recently got a new suit that is a bit too clean for comfort. Could get dangerous messing with his stuff.”

                “I don’t know…” John was grinning however.

                “He’s usually got candy stashed in his wardrobe.” Sherlock added, grinning as well.

                John’s own grin grew. “Count me in.”

                And thus. Probably one of the most dangerously amazing friendships was born on that rainy day.

 


	8. In Which it's Summer Vacation!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a big thanks to my beta It is [Elsexton29!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/elsexton29/pseuds/elsexton29) for going over this for me and helping me fix some missing pieces and such with this. I'm sorry again for taking so long with these chapters. Summer has just been crazy and the heat here in Texas is frying my brains, almost literally. Anyways please enjoy and let me know what you guys are thinking, trust me I read and think over every comment!

                Sherlock and John had become inseparable since that fated rainy day. There were very few weekends that the boys did not spend together. When such a weekend did arise, however, things turned ugly for both the Holmes’ and the Watsons’. Sherlock would pout until an experiment that involved mass destruction came up, and John would ignore the rest of the world's existence.

                For the most part, the boys either hung out at the park collecting data from several of Sherlock’s several experiments. John did most of the talking, going on about his school, some telly show or another, and occasionally something important that happened with his family. He always managed to leave out any and all details about his father’s frequent outbursts.. If Sherlock did mention a bruise or cut John had suddenly gotten, John would lie. Sherlock would then stare at John for several moments, he knew something wasn’t right. However, he did not want to make John upset with him in fear of the other boy ending their friendship. Sherlock for the most part didn’t say a whole lot that wasn’t related to either science or deducing a passerby. On the days they couldn’t go to the park, or didn’t quite feel like it that day, Sherlock would call for a car to get John and have the boy over at his house. They never hung out at John’s house mostly due to the fact that most weekends neither of the Watsons were home. Neither boy complained though. Sherlock’s house was much larger and they could always find something exciting to do or play. When Sherlock wasn’t conducting experiments with John watching they were coming up with imaginary adventures to go on. From ‘crime scenes’ to ‘exploring the seven seas’ the boys were never bored.

                Perhaps it was from all the adventures or maybe it was from all the experiments the red notebook had appeared one day in John’s short chubby hands. Sherlock’s brows had furrowed in confusion at the notebook and the excited look in his friend’s face.  John explained that the notebook was to keep track of all of their experiments. Sherlock argued that they didn’t need to write notes; he kept all of his own notes in his mind attic.

                “What’s a mind attic?” John questioned the moment Sherlock brought it up.

                “It’s what I call my brain and where I store important information per say. My mind is like a attic consisting of many boxes and bins that hold valuable information. I ‘store’ the information there so I can easily go into the ‘attic’ and find what I need in a matter of minutes. It’s quite useful as I make sure to simply delete any unwanted information.” Sherlock explained to his friend.

                “What type of stuff do you consider unwanted?” John always seemed to always have some sort of question for Sherlock.

                “Usually I find anything with pop culture and the solar system the most uninteresting and least valuable.” Sherlock answered.

                John tilted his head. “The Solar System is really important though…”

                Sherlock merrily snorted. “Hardly. Who cares that there are giant balls of gas and rock floating around us? Or that the Earth orbits Jupiter-” John suddenly burst out laughing. “What’s so funny? John! I didn’t say anything funny! I’m stating a simple fact!’

                “T-The Earth orbits the Sun silly! And Jupiter orbits the Sun as well!” John managed out between laughs. He couldn’t believe Sherlock didn’t know something so simple!

                “Unimportant.”  Sherlock huffed out, crossing his arms.

                John shook his head, grinning.  He just simply commented, “You're amazing, Sherlock.” And that was the end of that conversation. Sherlock blushed and shifted awkwardly before turning back to the moss that had formed on a piece of tree bark and began listing off facts about it. John’s smile softened. He took out a pencil he had brought with him and opened the notebook and began writing down what Sherlock was saying about the moss.

                That red notebook never left John’s sight. The boy loved opening the book and re-reading all the things he and sometimes even Sherlock had written down. John’s teachers noticed the red book the boy was engrossed in and would occasionally ask him what he was reading. When he began explaining all the various experiments he and his friend Sherlock had done together, the teachers worried initially that John might be participating in something dangerous. They soon realized it wasn’t anything too worrisome as Mrs. Watson spoke to them about how John’s new friend was a bit more intelligent for his age and the boys were not getting into anything that neither of their parents disapproved of.

                Eventually, the school year ended for each of them. It was a time they had been looking forward to. No class meant a whole two months of nothing but sleepovers and adventures. John had made a section of the red notebook of different questions to test experiments on along with adventures that the two of them could go on. He hadn’t been this excited for summer vacation before, usually dreading long days either in his room or curled up on the couch watching the telly. Sherlock wouldn’t admit it but he was excited to spend his summer with his new friend. He typically spent his summer locked in his own room, avoiding any contact with his family. Preferring his experiments and screeching his violin just to annoy his brother down the hall.

 

                While her children were exploring their independence with their friends, Mrs. Watson had taken up longer hours at the clinic. Earlier that month she was had received alarming news while having lunch with Stewart.

                “And so not only did we have to change the bed sheets, we ended up having to call and order a new mattress! Honestly I’ve been a nurse for at least fifteen years and never in my line of work had I seen a patient make such a mess of their bed! Why when John was still having his little bed wetting issue it wasn’t nearly that bad. I tell you sometimes I think-“

                “I’m going to die soon.” Stewart interrupted Julie. It was obvious he had not been listening to a single word that Julie had said. He wasn’t even looking at the younger woman, staring out his window with a solemn expression on his face.

                “I- Wait. What are you talking about Stewart…?” Julie could barely manage those words out. What had caused Stewart to say such a thing? Neither of them had ever talked about Stewart’s cancer before besides the usual ‘how are you feeling today’? The subject was too sensitive for either adult.

                “Went in for some scans because I was having chest pains. Doc came out with the pictures and showed me that the cancer had spread quicker than he has saw in a long time.” Stewart explained simply. There was no emotion evident in his voice.

                “Did… Did he give you at least some sort of idea of how long?” Julie asked, voice hardly above a whisper now. She could feel the tears stinging at the edge of her eyes.

                The elderly man shook his head. “Nope. He said it was hard to give a proper time range with how quickly this cancer can spread sometimes.” He answered.

                “I’m sure we can do something, I could probably take out some money from the bank. With the extra hours I can-“

                Once again the man interrupted her, this time he looked at her. His eyes were filled with sorrow. “No Julie. I’m not going to let you do that for me. I’ve been alive longer than I would have thought I would be. And you’ve done enough for me as it is.”

                “But Stewart there might be something more we could do!” Julie tried to interject, but Stewart just shook his head.

                “You’ve done a lot for me Julie. I appreciate it, but I think my wife would like it for me to finally join her. I know she’s been waiting for me long enough.” At this point Julie had started to cry. Stewart gave her a sad smile and reached over to hold her hand. “Now don’t be crying. I’m nothing to be crying about.”

                “I’m sorry.” Julie didn’t really have anything to apologize for, but she didn’t know what else to do at this point. “If that Is what you want. I’m here for you, no matter what time of the day. You know I’m always here for you. Even if I go home just ask a nurse to call me and I’ll be here whenever you need me alright?” She informed the man. Tears were still falling from her eyes, but she managed to put a soft smile on her face.

                He smiled back at her. “Thank you Julie. You’ve done far too much for these old bones. I wish there was some way I could repay your kindness.”

                “You don’t need to repay me. I consider you one of my closest friends Stewart. “ Julie said with a shake of her head.

                Stewart’s smile finally reached his eyes. “And I consider ya one of my friends as well.” He looked to the clock. “It’s ‘bout time for your lunch to be over. Better get to doing those rounds.” Julie nodded and stood up. “Ah, could you hand me that notebook and pen by you when you get the chance?” He asked her quickly.

                “Of course!” She smiled before she turned to get the requested items from the bedside table and handed them over. “I’ll stop by as always on my way out.” She informed him. She hesitated a moment before leaning over to give him a soft kiss on the temple a sad smile on her lips. “Don’t forget… Just call for me if you need anything.”      

                Stewart smiled at her and nodded. “Of course. Have a good afternoon Julie.” With that she walked out of the room before she broke down again.

                Several of the nurses gave Julie a sympathetic look as she shut the door to Stewart’s room. They all knew how much Julie cared about the sickly man.

                “Julie, If you want to leave early, we understand. I don’t mind covering for you.” One of her friends, Sherry, offered.

                Julie shook her head, giving the woman a smile and holding her head up high. “I’ll be fine. I would rather be here than sulking at home anyways.” She assured the other nurse who nodded in understanding before going back to her own work.

                Julie Watson would continue to hold her head up high. She didn’t want people to see her upset, especially not Stewart or her children when she got home.

 

 

                Sherlock was currently in his room writing down a list of things he would need for several of the experiments he had planned to conduct now that he wouldn’t need to be as focused on school work. His father still made him take lessons, but only three days out of the week and only for a few hours. Sherlock didn’t mind too terribly it kept his mind stimulated, even if he could complete the task of teaching better than the instructor.

                “Sherlock. Mummy wants you to come downstairs.” Mycroft’s voice broke Sherlock’s train of thought.

                “I’m busy.” Sherlock simply replied, not even bothering to move from his spot at his desk.

                “She told me to tell you it was important and if you don’t come down she’s going to take away your microscope for a week.” Mycroft

                Sherlock froze instantly at Mycroft’s words. Take away his microscope? That wouldn’t do. Sherlock stood up from his chair, and pouted up at his elder brother. “Fine. I’ll go downstairs.”

                The elder Holmes brother nodded and he and his brother walked downstairs to the parlour where their mother was sitting. She was currently reading one of her romance novels she was so fond of.

                “Mummy. I managed to get Sherlock out of his room so we can discuss the matter you mentioned earlier.” Mycroft informed her.

                Anita set aside her book and smiled at her sons. “Thank you Mycroft. And Thank you Sherlock for coming down and seeing me.” Sherlock just shrugged. “Now, Aunt Airelle in France has invited us to come stay with her for two months in July and I thought that would be a splendid idea. Your father isn’t going because he can’t take time off from work unfortunately. But he did say he would try and come for a weekend if Raphael would cover for him. A trip away from England I think would be a lovely. Oh, Sherlock sweetie what’s wrong?” While she was speaking Anita took notice of her son’s expression turn sour.

                “I don’t wanna go to France for two weeks.” He stated flatly. Anita tilted her head before asking. “And why heavens not? You get on quite well with your aunt and uncle.”

                “He doesn’t want to be away from his new friend for two whole weeks.” Mycroft butted into the conversation earning himself a glare from Sherlock.

                “It’s only two weeks dear, John will be here when you get back.” Anita tried to convince Sherlock. “And you can send him a postcard or two while you’re there. I’m sure he’d enjoy that a lot.”

                “But Mummy we have so many experiments planned! I can’t just leave them for France! Can’t I just stay here with the help?”

                “No Sherlock.” Anita was growing weary of always having to argue with her son like this. “I have already told your Aunt that we were all coming and that is final.”

Sherlock huffed. Why couldn’t his mother and brother understand that he and John had been working on these plans for months now? Anyways spending time with John was ten times more fun than spending time with family in France. It felt like he was always seeing family! It was summer and he wanted to spend summer with John!

“I’m not going!” Sherlock yelled before turning on his heel and stomping to his room. His mother tried yelling after him, but it was futile. Sherlock wouldn’t be speaking to her for at least several hours.

“Sherlock has grown quite attached to John Watson.” Mycroft commented as he listened to his brother stomp up the stairs.

Anita nodded. “I worry about him sometime. When he becomes attached to something he doesn’t let go without a fight.” Mycroft simply nodded. Neither of them flinched when Sherlock slammed his door shut.

 

 

                “And then she said I HAVE to go to France! For two WHOLE weeks! Can you believe that John? I don’t see why I have to go. I’m sure Auntie will be visiting for Christmas or some other tedious family get together soon enough anyways.”  Sherlock had managed to sneak into the guest room and use the phone they had set up in there. He and John would sneak in a call occasionally when there wasn't a threat of getting caught.

                “That’s a long time.” John commented though by the tone of voice it was obvious that John was lost in thought. “France sounds so nice. I saw a program on the telly about it! The Easel Towel looked super fun!”

                Sherlock snorted. “Honestly John, it’s the Eiffel tower. It’s nothing too fascinating. “

                “Could you bring me back a picture of it? If it isn’t too much trouble.” John asked the other hopefully.

                “Of course. I might bring you back some sort of gift. As an apology for leaving for so long. Mummy said I could send you postcards as well. So we won’t be strictly without communication.”

                “Well that’s good… Oh! You could take the notebook with you and take some notes on the people you see there or any experiments you put together while you’re there.” John offered, an excited tone in his voice.

                “Hm. That’s not a bad idea. I think I shall do that. What will you be doing while I’m gone?” Sherlock asked curiously.

                John made an ‘uh’ noise on the other end of the phone. “Dunno. My mum has taken up longer hours at the clinic. So I’ll either be with the babysitter or Harry most of the time. Oh! I can ask Harry to walk me to the library and get that book on bees you recommended me a while back!” John exclaimed.

                Sherlock on his side of the phone nodded. “That sounds good. I could also see about making a list of books you should be able to comprehend  that I found interesting myself.”

                “Thank you Sherlock!” Suddenly the slamming of a truck door from John’s end of the phone could be heard. “Ah. My dad’s home. I should get going. Call me tomorrow and maybe we can hang out before you leave for France?”

                “That would be wonderful. Do take care John.” Sherlock simply replied not fully understanding why John always seemed to be in a rush to get off the phone when his father got him.

                “See ya Sherlock!” And with that John had ended the call.

                Sherlock signed and placed the phone down on the receiver. Well there was nothing better to do than plot on how to make his family pay for interrupting his summer of John.


	9. I'm really sorry

Okay, I'm really sorry guys. I've just been in a bit of a rut. I've just started my first year of college and just had two anime conventions in a row. Things have just been super crazy for me. I love you guys and this story. I still want to continue it. This next chapter is just going to take forever. I'm really sorry loves. You guys are amazing and I swear I'm not going to just drop this without at least giving it some sort of 'end'. I do have things I want to do. I just haven't had the energy or momentum to work on the story so far. I swear I'm going to start working on it some more in the near future. Once again you are all super lovely and just thanks.

-Squibler

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Please tell me what you think! Words of encouragement will motivate me to try and write more. I can't promise weekly updates, but I'll shoot for every other week maybe at the latest? I have a lot I'd like to do with this, and a lot of ideas, but my challenge is getting them all out. If you see any MAJOR typing errors, please be kind when informing me.


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